


Colorblind

by iamsiriuslyriddikulus



Category: HTGAWM, How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: M/M, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-02-27 14:04:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2695760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamsiriuslyriddikulus/pseuds/iamsiriuslyriddikulus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world is in black and white until the day after you sleep with your soulmate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Colorblind

**Author's Note:**

> For the lovely people on Tumblr on the Coliver Network (and especially for Sam).

Connor stopped worrying about soulmates years ago. “The universe can’t fucking tell me what I want,” he says. “My mom couldn’t tell me what to do when I was little. No way am I letting some bullshit Powers that Be dictate my life. “

"If you’re not careful, those bullshit  _Powers that Be_  are going to bite you in the ass,” Michaela says.

"I’d like to see them try."

\- - -

Pax’s is by no means a quiet lover, so it surprises Connor when Pax comes with only a soft whine. His breath hitches, and his nails dig into Connor’s scalp as he grabs at his hair. “Fuck, how do you do that?” He asks.

Connor runs his tongue over Pax’s head one last time, and Pax let’s out a shiver. He pulls up “What thing?” Connor asks though he knows full well what Pax is talking about. He smirks and traces his tongue along the shell of Pax’s ear.

"You’re not fair," Pax whines. "That thing with your tongue."

"That?" He shifts to his side and cocks an eyebrow. "Trade secret. If I told you, I’d have to kill you."

"Fuck you."

"Right now? Okay." He grabs Pax by his wrists and pins them up against the headboard of his bed. "I’m going to fuck you until you’re nothing but a whining, begging mess." Pax arches his hips up, and his cock is already half-hard again.

"Lube’s in the second drawer," Pax breathes. Connor chuckles and bends downs presses his tongue into Pax’s neck as he sucks. He smells of nice cologne, and Connor takes pity on him, reaching down and pressing his thumb against Pax’s perineum. When Connor pulls back, the spot on Pax’s neck is already littered in hickeys high enough that he won’t be able ot hide it with anything but makeup.

"Turn around." When he pulls open the drawer, he finds a pair of handcuffs and takes them out along with the lube.

\- - -

Julian makes him wonder if the whole system’s fucked — some cosmic  conspiracy that doesn’t actually work. He finds out after he’s tongue deep with three fingers in that Julian has met his soulmate.

"Jesus Christ, what are you with me for?" he asks as his fingers curl inside of him. Julian arches off the stall door and looks down at him.

"He’s not as good as you."

"No one is." Connor grins. "So what’s the world like in color?"

"Just shut up. I like your mouth much better when it’s not asking questions." Julian reaches down and cup’s Connor’s jaw. Connor slips his fingers out and lets Julian pull him up and kiss him. He bites Connor’s lower lip, and his nails run up Connor’s back. "What if I fucked you?"

"Would be your loss. I’m fantastic," Connor breathes as he tugs at Julian’s hair.

"How do you know that I’m not? Besides, I want to wipe that smug, little smirk of your face, Walsh. You think you’re better than everyone else."

"I  _know_ I am.”

Julian arches his eyebrows and flips them over before Connor can protest. “You absolutely sure?” He bends down a little, taking one of Connor’s nipples into his mouth. He sucks lightly, and his teeth scrapes against it.

“ _Fuck_.” Connor moans and tries to ignore the satisfied look in Julian’s eyes.

\- - - 

The cocktail bars of Philly are filled with people looking for their soulmates. Connor hates the atmosphere — the overdone flirtation and overwrought conversations about color. He squeezes his brow as he takes a sip from his drink. If it weren’t the closest place to his house, he wouldn’t end up here so often.

Besides, when he’s not going clubbing, he hates the dingy bars that reek of piss and beer. They always seem to have a flickering TV set to ESPN and a crowd of people just too desperate for his taste.

"Rum and coke? Not very creative. They have better drinks here."

Connor turns to tell the guy to fuck off, but when he does, he’s met with kind eyes and a nervous smile. “You get the same thing every time you come here.”

"Are you stalking me? Should I be worried?" Connor asks. He swirls his glass and leans back in his seat.

"No, no!" The man quickly waves his hands in protest. "People from my job come here a lot, and I kind of tag along. I’ve just seen you several times."

"And you’ve remembered me?" Connor asks. He knows he’s pushing the poor guy’s buttons, just making him more anxious than before.

"I mean — it’s hard to forget someone as cute as you." The man winces as soon as the words leave his mouth. "That’s not what I meant."

"So, I’m not cute?"

He sighs and covers his face for a second. When he looks up, he asks, “Can we start over? I’m Oliver.”

"Connor. Why don’t we take this somewhere more private?"

Oliver flushes and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He runs a hand through his hair. “Well, that was blunt.”

"Was I wrong to assume?" Connor swirls his drink in his hand and wets his lips.

"No," Oliver says. Connor downs the rest of his drink in one gulp.

They have to take a taxi to Oliver’s place, and Connor regrets not suggesting his apartment. Still, they steal kisses when the taxi driver isn’t looking, and Connor runs his hand up Oliver’s thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. By the time they get to Oliver’s apartment and the door shuts, Connor pushes him him up against the wall and smirks.

"How many times have you wanted to take me home?" Connor asks. "Every time you saw me?" He kisses down Oliver’s jaw and sucks a dark spot on his neck.

"I wanted to talk to you, but someone else always beat me to it." Connor chuckles and reaches around, grabbing Oliver’s ass and grinding their hips together. "Oh God."

Connor grabs him by his belt loops and makes his way over to where the bedroom door is open. He tugs Oliver in and pushes him against the bed. Oliver’s hair is a mess, and he lets out a whine. His glasses are skewed. Connor can’t help but think he looks gorgeous like that, disheveled and breathing heavily.

Connor bends down and fumbles with the button and zipper of Oliver’s pants. When he manages to get them off, he grabs the boxers as well and tosses them to the side. He doesn’t hesitate before taking Oliver in his mouth. He runs his tongue along the underside and hollows out his cheeks.

When Oliver thrusts up in his mouth, it catches Connor off-guard. Oliver seems far too timid to take any control, and he lets out a small moan. There is something hotter than usual when Oliver grabs his hair. Connor runs his nails along the inside of Oliver’s thighs before cupping his balls.

It doesn’t take long for Oliver to come, and Connor has barely swallowed when Oliver pulls him up and kisses him. No doubt he can taste himself fully on Connor’s lips, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, his eases Connor’s lips open with his tongue and runs his thumb along Connor’s jawline.

"You don’t look like the type to take control," Connor says as he reaches down to unzip his own pants.

"You don’t like the type to let anyone else take control," Oliver says. "Yet here we are." He swats Connor’s hand away and flips them over. He makes quick work tossing their clothes to the side and reaching for lube. Connor isn’t entirely sure how he finds himself with his nose buried in Oliver’s neck, rocking against him, but he does, trying to time himself with Oliver’s thrusts to get him deeper.

When they’re done, he falls asleep with the bedsheets still sticky and one arm around Oliver.

\- - - 

When Connor wakes him, it is still dark outside. Being half-asleep, it takes him a moment to register that something is different. The world is saturated with colors. His throat closes, and he looks over at Oliver, sleeping peacefully with a smile curled up on his lips.

"Fuck." He gets out of bed as quietly as he can and puts on his clothes. His heart pounds in his chest, and he tries to steady his breathing. When Oliver shifts in his sleep, Connor stills and looks over to make sure that he does wake up.

Getting to his apartment is a blur, and he slams the door shut behind him before stumbling over to Michaela’s room. He pounds on the door. “Michaela, open the fucking door. I know you and Aiden are in there. Open the fuck up.”

It takes a minute, but Michaela yanks the door open. “I swear to God, Connor, I’m going to kill you.” Her expression softens a bit when she sees Connor. “What do you want? It’s five in the morning.”

"I can see them." His chest constricts, and he bends over for a moment. When he pulls up, he lets out a choked laugh and covers his mouth. "Fuck. I can see them."

"Are you high?"

"Colors, Michaela."

Michaela runs a hand through her hair. “Well, shit.”


	2. Synesthesia

**Synesthesia**  ( **n** ): A perceptual condition in which one sense stimulates a usually unrelated second sense (such as when people see emotions in color).

\- - -

“I look even better in color,” Connor says, turning around in front of the mirror. He grins and turns around to see Aiden and Michaela with their arms wrapped around each other. Michaela doesn’t lift her head from Aiden’s shoulder as she replies.

“Who would have thought finding your soulmate would make you even more of a dick?” She presses a kiss to Aiden’s jaw, and Connor scoffs.

“No need to be jealous,” he says. “I mean, I know I’m pretty hot but –”

“Speaking of which, when are you going to look for… Oliver, wasn’t it?” Her voice is expectant.

“I told you that I really don’t want to talk about it,” Connor says. He smoothes down the front of his hair before making his way into the living room and falling down on an armchair. “I don’t need Oliver.”

“You can’t run away from your soulmate forever, Connor,” Aiden says. He links fingers with Michaela and squeezes her hand. “Just looks at us.”

“I’d really rather not. You know, it makes me a little nauseous.” Connor scrunches up his face in mock disgust, and Michaela rolls her eyes.

“One day I’m going to move out and make sure to let everyone else know how big of a pain in the ass you are so that no one else wants to move in with you. Then, you’ll have to pay for this whole apartment on your own.” She motions around the living room. Her eyes dart over to Connor, and Connor resists the urge to stick out his tongue when her eyebrows rise.

“You don’t have the guts. Besides, you can’t get rid of me that easily, Mickey.” The nickname has the intended effect, and Michaela stands up.

“You know I hate it when you call me that.” As she storms to her room, Connor can hear her mutter “asshole” under her breath. The door slams shut behind her, and Connor smirks.

“Do you have to provoke her?” Aiden asks. He looks at Michaela’s door and gets up. “She’s right – you know.”

“About what?”

“That you’re a huge asshole.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t seem to mind back in New Hampshire, now did you?” He knows the jab is crossing the line, but Aiden’s comment stings. Sure enough, Aiden’s forehead creases as he frowns, and he shakes his head.

“Grow up already, Connor.” The door to Michaela’s room shuts behind Aiden, and Connor sighs.

\- - -

Connor is not entirely sure why he has been so tired, but lately he feels exhausted. No amount of caffeine seems to cut it. He squeezes the bridge of his nose, but his thoughts are interrupted by Annalise’s voice. “Mr. Walsh, the entire class is waiting.”

Connor looks up to see Annalise looking expectantly at him. Even the guy sitting next to him looks a little worried for him. Connor has no clue what she even asked. He clears his throat and asks quietly, “I’m sorry, Ms. Keating, but could you repeat the question?”

“I asked which in which case did we first see the use of the fruit of the poisonous tree doctrine.” Connor opens his mouth to answer, but Annalise cuts him off. “However, I no longer care to hear your answer. When you’re in my class, I expect you to mentally present as well. If you’re going to waste everyone’s time by thinking of something else, I’d prefer you just did not show up at all.” Several other hands shoot up. “Mr. Gibbins, care to answer?”

“Silverthorne Lumber Co. versus the United States in 1920,” he answers.

“Excellent.”

Connor slides down in his chair and does his best to focus on what she says. For the rest of class, she does not even look in his direction, even when he raises his hands to answer questions. Connor grinds his teeth together. Part of him wants to speak out, but he knows better since Laurel was scolded for that the first day of classes.

The class is dismissed without Annalise calling for them to come up, and he slings his satchel over his shoulder as he makes his way out, twirling his pen between his hands. There is no reason for it to be this difficult to focus. He wishes he could blame it on the color, but the first class in color wasn’t nearly as distracting as today has been.

As Connor rubs his eyes, someone bumps into him. He looks up to see Michaela smirking at him. “What the hell do you want?” he asks. His annoyance just seems to please her even more, and she lifts the strap of her purse up her shoulder as she gives him a smug look.

“So, Connor, why did you have to waste everyone else’s time in class?”

“If you don’t shut up, I will –”

“You’ll do what, Mr. Walsh?” Annalise appears – Connor could swear – out of nowhere and gives him a scolding look. He clenches his jaw.

“Nothing.”

“Your threats are almost as empty as your head has been lately. Fix that. Don’t make me feel like I’ve made a mistake picking you as one of my five.” With that, she walks off.

Connor stands there a moment and runs a hand through his hair as he tries to steady his breathing. His cheeks burn in humiliation, and a few of the other students in the class mumble and look at him as they walk by. “Wow, that really had to hurt, didn’t it?” Michaela asks. “Looks like you need to step up your game.”

“I swear to God, Michaela –”

“It’s because of Oliver.”

“It has nothing to do with him. Will you drop him? It’s been what – a month and a half since we hooked up?” His hands reach for his satchel strap, and his fingers tighten around it as he pushes past several people and down the hall.

“You’re obviously having trouble focusing. Would you just listen to me?”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m trying to help you.”

“Well, I don’t need your help!” He throws his hands up in the air, and Michaela scowls.

“Fine. Ruin your life. See if I care.”

Connor makes his way toward the library. He’s sure she is heading home, and the last thing he wants is to have to listen to her. His head is buzzing, and he’s not sure if it’s from the lingering embarrassment and anger or the feeling poking at the back of his head. He tries to push it out, and thankfully – as if the universe is aware of how badly he needs it – a distraction comes his way.

The man behind the desk’s eyes glue to him, and Connor makes his way over. “I need help finding a book,” he says.

“What book?” the man asks. He leans forward, and his eyes fix onto Connor’s lips.

“Any book,” he repeats and raises his eyebrow. It takes the man a moment to register, and when he does, his lips form an “o” shape. He nods his head, and he leads Connor to the back of the library in a corner where the travel books are -- where few people look.

“What if someone catches us?” he asks.

“We’ll just have to be quiet – now won’t we?” Connor presses their lips together, and his hands reach under the man’s shirt, tracing up his chest. He watches at the man’s cheeks flush pink and he bites his lips.

When Connor undoes his belt, tugs down his pants and boxer briefs, and wraps his lips around the man’s cock, the man lets out a choked moan. Connor looks up and raises his eyebrow, and the man bites his lip harder than before. His hands fist Connor’s hair, and Connor takes him down to the base of his cock, his tongue dragging along the underside. He lets himself get lost in the familiar feeling.

\- - -

The next two months drag by slowly and painfully. Connor can barely think. It takes all his energy to drag himself to class and work with Annalise. He doesn’t have time to run off to any bars. On more than one occasion, someone finds him curled up on a university bench, fast asleep.

“You’re going to drive yourself insane. Would you just listen to me and go find Oliver,” Michaela tells him. She pulls out a book and points at three underlined sentences:  
_A soulmate is crucial to the wellbeing of the other person. Without one, a person can suffer physical ramifications such as drowsiness, headaches, lack of focus, and even a loss of color. While it is possible for a soulmate to cut connection with their partner, the suffering it would cause is immense._

The word looks a little less vibrant than it did before, but Connor waves his hand and dismisses it. “I hate all this romantic bullshit. It’s garbage.”

“Why are you so stubborn?” Michaela asks. She slams the book down on the table and crosses her arms.

“I’m stubborn? That’s rich coming from you.”

“Oh don’t throw it back at me like that. Annalise is going to kick you out when you fall asleep at her house or when you fail to answer yet another question because your mind is somewhere else.”

“Like you wouldn’t love every minute of that. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t rub it in my face. Don’t act like you care.” He turns around and starts to move toward his room, but Michaela reaches out and grabs him, turning him around.

“I don’t know why in the world I care, but I do, but I’m not going to watch your throw your life away. You need to find Oliver and fix things before you screw yourself over.”

Connor doesn’t expect those words to come out of her mouth, but the thought of spending his life with a stranger makes his mouth go dry. He doesn’t know Oliver at all. “But that’s exactly what I’m doing – screwing myself over and over and over with many different guys.” He leers, and Michaela draws back and lets go of his arm.

“Fine, just go on acting like it isn't eating away at you. I’ll be there to tell you that I told you so.”

“I’m sure you will.”

\- - -

“Michaela told me that you were refusing to see your soulmate,” Wes says after class one day. Connor rolls his eyes and bites his tongue before spinning on his heels to face Wes.

“Because it’s definitely your business and her business what I decide to do with my life,” he says.

He makes his way down the hall, and Wes continues walking with him. “Meeting Rebecca and Lila changed my life.”

Connor forgets that some soulmates are poly and that Wes is one of them. He has met Rebecca and Lila once or twice at the house, and he’s not entirely sure how they function. Rebecca’s looks like she never grew out of her high school punk phase, and Lila never looks like the model popular girl in school.

“That’s adorable, really, Waitlist, but I don’t care.”

Wes ignores the nickname but pushes on. “Soulmates are really great. I know it seems ridiculous to just give up your life for someone, but it’s worth it to –”

“Don’t tell me what’s worth it. I don’t know you. I don’t know anything about you other than that we work together. You’re not my friend. And I don’t need to listen to this bullshit about soulmates. The textbooks say that two hundred years ago, this color stuff didn’t exist. I am not going to listen to people tell me what I need and don’t need. It’s _my_ life.”

Connor’s head spins as he storms off, and when he rounds the corner, he has to clutch at the wall to steady himself. For a moment, he feels like the world is spinning around him. He lets out a shaky breath and tries to calm down.

After a moment, he feels a sharp pain in his head. It takes him a minute to calm down, and he’s thankful to find that Wes hasn’t followed him. When the world finally stops spinning completely, he lifts his satchel up his shoulder.

When his hand catches his eyes, he notices that they’re starting to look a little grey.

\- - -

Oliver pulls him in by his belt loops and presses a slow kiss to his lips. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, well, look who’s talking.” Connor nips at Oliver’s lips before turning back to the stove. “How long does it take water to boil?”

“It’s been on the stove for two minutes. You can’t honestly expect it to be done by now.” Oliver wraps his arms around Connor’s waist and leans his head into the crook of Oliver’s neck.

“Well, two minutes is too long already. I want it to be done so that I can take you back to your room and –”

“Patience.” Oliver nips at his jaw and laughs. “Do you ever think about anything other than fucking me?”

“Well, I think about you fucking me quite a lot as well. Maybe more.”

Oliver raises his eyebrows. “Not the point I was trying to make, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Oh, so after we make this pasta… ?” He looks at Oliver expectantly but doesn’t finish the sentence.

“Yes? Please go on and finish the sentence. I want to hear you begging for it aloud.”

“There’ll be plenty begging later,” Connor promises. When Oliver presses a kiss to the edge of his lips, he feels warm. He feels at home. Oliver reaches down, linking fingers with him and squeezes his hand.

“I’m waiting.”

“Fine, then. I want you to fuck me,” he says. Oliver traces his finger along Connor’s jaw. “I want you to pull at my hair and pin me to your bed. I want you to hold my hands above my head and work me until I’m crying for you to let me come.” His hand slips lower, down Oliver’s neck, and Oliver’s breath hitches. Their eyes don’t break contact.

“And?” Oliver asks in a whisper.

“And when I finally come, I want to come with you continuing to rock into me until I’m sore and sensitive. I want my wrists to be red when you let go. I want my mouth to be bruised from you kissing me.” He grabs Oliver’s ass and pulls them closer together, rocking their hips together. Oliver is already half-hard in his boxers, and Connor wets his lips.

“Connor…”

“I want you to mark me up with hickeys so dark that they won’t go away for weeks. I want everyone to know that I’m yours.”

“Mine,” Oliver echoes.

When he leans in and kisses Connor, his hand goes to the back of Connor’s neck, and he holds him closer. He pushes forward, and Connor’s back bumps against the counter. He grabs Connor’s hand with his own and pins it above his head and to the cabinets. Connor whimpers and leans in, but Oliver pulls away.

“Don’t stop,” he whines, but Oliver just smirks and points over at the stove.

“Looks like your water’s finally boiling.”

Connor wakes up in a sweat, alone in his bed. It takes his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, but when they do it hits him that everything is in black and white.

\- - -

Connor shifts from foot to foot and fixes his hair as he stands in front of the door. He had forgotten where Oliver even lived before the dreams. But it’s hard to forget when every night the apartment number flashes in color in his sleep.

Part of him wants to turn tail and run, but he knows that he won’t find the courage to come back here again. If it even is courage that’s bringing him here. He’s half sure it’s desperation. His body aches, and he longs to see color again.

Just as he decides Oliver probably isn’t at home, the door opens. The person who opens it most certainly isn’t Oliver. He’s a middle-aged man, and he frowns as he looks at Connor. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Oliver?” he asks.

“Oliver?” The man looks confused for a moment. “Oh, the kid who lived here before me.”

“Before you? Where did he move?”

“Dunno.”

“When did he move?”

“Two weeks ago.” He pauses for a moment before asking, “You wouldn’t happen to be Connor, would you?”

“Yeah?” Connor can feel hope light up in his chest, and the guy nods before motioning for Connor to wait. He disappears for a moment, closing the door behind him, and Connor shifts from foot to foot. Perhaps Oliver had left an address for him to go to with this man. There is a reason this stranger who barely remembers Oliver’s name knows his.

When the man comes back, he has a letter in hand. “The kid gave me this to give to you when you came. He said it was important.” He shrugs and hands it over.

“Thanks.”

“Sure thing.” The man nods awkwardly. “Well, good night.”

“You too.”

Connor waits until he makes it outside before leaning against the building and tearing open the letter.

_Connor,_

_If you’re reading this, you know I’ve moved._

_I’ve spent the past five months trying to find you. The first day I woke up to find you gone and the world in color. I didn’t know finding your soulmate could be so devastating. And for months, I wondered if I had done something wrong. I wondered why you left and what I was supposed to do to find you when all I knew about you was your first name._

_You didn’t come back to the bar after that, and I can only assume that you did it on purpose._

_I get it. Finding your soulmate is scary. But we were in this together. I always thought that everything would be easier when I found my soulmate. I thought all my problems would be solved, and maybe I was naïve to assume so._

_I never assumed my soulmate would be so selfish._

_I wonder whether you ever thought about me – how it affected me or how I was coping. I’m guessing not. But there were two of us in this. This wasn’t just you it hurt. It wasn’t just you with the headaches and the dizziness and the nausea. You weren’t the only one to watch the color slowly fade out of your life again._

_So, I decided that I’m not waiting any longer. If you’re going to say “screw that” to soulmates, then I can too. I don’t want someone like you to be an important part of my life._

_Please don’t look for me for me anymore. You made your decision when you snuck off in the middle of the night. Now I’ve made mine._

_Oliver_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I'm sure all of you have seen, I've updated this so that it says that it's going to be six parts long. I want to thank all of you lovely people for your compliments -- inspiring me to continue this!


	3. Grayscale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please go read the companion fic "When We Collide" before reading this. It is Aiden/Connor, but it will help you better understand Connor's mentality and why he is more prone to listening to Aiden. Also, this fic will now be seven chapters long. This chapter is on the shorter side and mostly filler, but it's leading up to an exciting next chapter -- I promise.

The first thing Connor feels is embarrassment and shame. It runs through him hot and fast, and he clenches his jaw as his eyes glaze over. Rejection is a rare occurrence for him. He has always prided himself on getting what he wants when he wants it. Oliver is not just some man on the street. Oliver is his soulmate.

_Please don’t look for me anymore._

The words ring in his head until his throat feels dry and the embarrassment ebbs away. It curls away and tucks back into a corner of his heart as the rages builds up, crawling under his skin until he feels it bubbling in the back of his throat. His eyes burn, and he clenches his jaw.

He had just needed time. Of course it wasn’t easy, but he is here now. Oliver should not get to shoot him down. He takes several, unsteady breaths and tries to choke back a frantic laugh as a woman walking by him furrows her brow and speeds up her step in seeming worry.

“God fucking dammit.” He runs a hand over his face and shoves the letter in his pocket. He doesn’t want to deal with a cab driver right now, so he makes his way to the subway and rides it out home. His fingers run over the edge of the paper as his heart beats in his throat.

When he makes it back to their apartment, he paces his room for a while before he sits in the living room. Michaela and Aiden aren’t in the apartment. He flicks through several channels on their television, but everything might as well be white noise. When he finally shuts it off, he waits.

It is almost midnight when Michaela and Aiden get back in. Connor takes the sheet out of his pocket and smoothes it out between his fingers. He can feel a dull ache in the back of his head, and he takes a deep breath.

Michaela lets out a small shriek when she notices him sitting quietly on the couch, and her hand covers her chest. “Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with you, Connor?” Connor opens his mouth to speak, but for having had several hours to gather his thoughts, they are nowhere near organized. “I wouldn’t be surprised to find out you killed someone -- I swear.” She hangs up her coat by the door and frowns.

“Oliver…” He isn’t sure which word to use, so he just thrusts the letter out for Michaela to read.

Her eyes scan over the letter quickly, and she frowns for a moment before giving it to Aiden. “Honestly, Connor, you should have expected this. I told you not to dawdle. He’s absolutely right. You weren’t just hurting yourself by being an idiot.”

Connor bristles at the accusation. “Yeah, well, no one told me he’d run off.”

“You left him hanging. For over five months. You really thought he was just going to sit there and wait forever for you to make up your mind?” She runs a hand through her hair and glances at her watch. “Annalise is going to want us bright and early tomorrow. I don’t have time to talk about this with you right now.” She makes her way to her room and glances back just to ask Aiden, “Coming?”

“I’ll just be a second,” Aiden says. Michaela’s brow furrows, but when he offers her a warm smile, she just goes into her room and shuts the door.

Aiden sits down next to Connor and holds out the letter. He seems to be searching for the right words, and when he finally turns to Connor, he lays a hand on his knee. “It’s your own damn fault -- you and your stupid pride.”

Connor can’t meet Aiden’s eyes, so instead, he focuses on his hand. “He’s such an asshole. I don’t know why I’m so upset. I don’t even _want_ to be with him.” His eyes prickle, and the knot in his throat returns. “I can’t believe he moved away. Fuck him.”

Aiden just lets him vent for a moment, rubbing one hand up and down his back while the other squeezes his knee. When Connor finishes, he makes the mistake of looking up to meet Aiden’s expression. It’s something close to pity, and he feels something inside of him break.

“You need to reach out to him,” Aiden says.

“He said he wants nothing to do with me.”

“Figure it out. Dammit, Con, I know you. You’ll find out who he is and where he lives even if it means screwing the information out of someone.” He pauses and offers a tiny smile before adding, “ _Especially_ if it means screwing the information out of someone.”

“Fuck you,” Connor says, but his voice lacks any conviction.

“Email him. Or message him over Facebook. The poor kid probably needs time. God knows you’re the king of whiplash  and a fucking dick.” Aiden has no harm or ill will in his voice.

“I don’t want to.”

Aiden doesn’t respond. He just wraps his arms around Connor and holds him against his chest. Connor looks up to meet his eyes, and for a moment, Aiden looks like the boy he knew in New Hampshire, warm and soft and full of more love and patience than he knows he deserves. Connor’s eyes well up, and his breath hitches in his throat as the tears finally break through.

\- - -

Connor wakes up late and barely makes it over to Annalise’s house on time. His hair is a wreck, and he just has time to throw on a hoodie and some jeans. It momentarily catches everyone else off guard, but considering that they are just staying in to do research for a case, Annalise decides not to comment.

Michaela kicks him when he accidentally dozes off three hours in, and he catches Laurel throwing an unimpressed look his way.

“You look like a train wreck. Fix it.” Michaela crosses her arms over her chest. “Aiden told me he gave you some advice.”

“I’m not calling Oliver. I refuse to come back crawling back, begging on my hands and knees.” Connor catches his reflection in a window and attempts to smooth down his hair.

“Mr. Walsh, Ms. Pratt, back to work. You can chit chat later,” Annalise says.

When they finally get let out around dinner time, Connor stops by his favorite take out Chinese place for lo mein and wonton soup. He sits on the couch at home and watches reruns of Seinfeld as he scrolls through Buzzfeed articles.

“You’re a pathetic mess,” Michaela says.

“You don’t get to judge me,” he says as he shovels food into his mouth. “I’m moving on. I have no color in my life anyway, so what am I really losing?”

“Your potential for happiness.”

“Not everyone is happy with a soulmate, Michaela. Not everyone goes looking for one, and not everyone finds theirs. They’re still happy.” He raises his eyebrows, and stabs his chopsticks in her direction.

“But you found a soulmate. Don’t be the stubborn asshole who ruins it.”

“He doesn’t want anything to do with me. Not that it matters – I don’t want anything to do with him either.” He stretches out and snuggles up a little more into the blankets. “Besides, the headaches are starting to abate.”

“You’re making the worst mistake of your life.”

“That’s unnecessarily dramatic.” Connor sets his food down and picks up his phone. As he scrolls through his Facebook feed, he hears Michaela sigh. He just lifts the hood of his sweater and tries to ignore her.

\- - -

It takes him another week before he cracks. Halfway through fucking another guy, he makes the mistake of moaning out Oliver’s name. It has far less to do with any sort of connection than it does to Oliver never leaving his mind. He lets out a stream of curse words and manages to move on. The guy he’s fucking looks concerned, but when Connor tilts his head up and presses a bruising kiss to his lips, he manages to make the man forget.

As it turns out, Aiden is right. It does take screwing someone else to find out. He makes his way over to the bar at which he met Oliver. He doesn’t really have hopes of meeting Oliver. He figures that Oliver is smart enough to cover up his tracks. He tries to ask the bartender if he knows anyone by the name of Oliver, and when that inevitably fails, he tries making small talk with other people there.

He hooks up with four different people before one of them is able to give him any information. The guy is some twink who looks unnervingly young, though, as he reassures Connor multiple times, he is just a year younger than him. However, he is bubbly and talkative, and when Connor asks if he knows about Oliver, the guy bites his lip in a look that gives it all away.

Connor knows better than to press, so he just changes the subject. “So, where do you work?” The guy seems to forget all about his uncertainty a moment before and spends the next ten minutes talking to Connor about what it is like to work for an IT company.

When he wraps his arms around Connor’s neck and presses a kiss to his jaw, Connor has to fight off the urge to shove him off. “You’re really cute,” the guy says.

“So I’ve been told.” It takes him until now to realize that he doesn’t even remember the guy’s name. Only when Skyler – as he finds out the guy is called – leaves, does he put his name in Connor’s phone and give him a wink. Connor knows that it’s a number he never plans on using again.

He waits until Skyler leaves to Google the company, and he is not disappointed. It takes ten minutes of digging, but he is able to find Oliver. Or as the big, blue letters next to his name read in all caps: OLIVER HAMPTON.

A last name is all he needs to find out more. Perhaps the hook up wasn't so useless, after all.

He finds Oliver on Facebook relatively quickly, and he scrolls through what he can see. His Timeline is surprisingly visible, and Connor looks through his photos. For most of them, Oliver is bent over and laughing, nose scrunched up and lips pulled in a warm smile. He goes through what he can see of Oliver’s likes and events.

The only note that exists is about something computer related.

Connor spends a while considering what to do before writing a message:

_So, I get that you said that you wanted nothing to do with me. I understand if you don’t want to talk, but I just wanted to say that I probably shouldn’t have just cut you out of the loop. You were a part of it. This soulmate shit is just complicated, and I kind of freaked out when it happened to me. As I’m sure you know. It just would be nice maybe to meet up for coffee. Maybe I can buy you a cup and apologize?_

_I guess I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry._

He adds the last sentence almost as an afterthought and even pays the extra money so that it shows up in Oliver’s regular Facebook inbox. After that, he waits.

It is marked as read an hour after it is posted, and Connor feels the paranoia seeping in. He spends the next few hours distracted and checking his Facebook despite the fact he knows he’d get a phone notification if he had a message.

A day turns into a three and then a week, and Connor does his best to forget about it. Unfortunately, his daily reminder to “just forget about it” seems to do just the opposite. By the time the week is up, he goes to Oliver’s page again. He first writes up an angry message, but before he can send it, Aiden patiently reminds him that is probably the worst idea.

“What do I care?” he asks.

As he retypes a much kinder message later on that night, he realizes that he maybe cares a little. He rewrites his new message a few times until he is satisfied with it and logs off before he can regret it and take it all back. He can already it digging at his pride.

It takes three days or Oliver to reply, but when his phone pings in the middle of class, he wishes he hadn’t stared at it. He does his best to ignore it. If Annalise catches him on his phone, it’ll just make her mad.

He beelines out of class and pulls out his phone. He hears Michaela chasing at his heels, and he turns around to see her looking expectantly at him. “Oliver replied, didn’t he?” she asks.

“How would you know?”

“Oh please, you’re hopeless.”

“I am not hopeless!”

“Just open the damn message,” Michaela says. Connor huffs and pulls it up. He scans it over and frowns. “Well, what did he say?”

“ _Look, I just really don’t want anything to do with you. I’m happy where I am. Besides, do you really expect me to come flying back into your arms after you left me hanging? I can tell you’re sorry, but I just don’t think I want to date you. So, thanks but no.”_

“Well, that’s rough,” Michaela says. She gives him a sympathetic look. Connor shoves his phone back in his pocket and shrugs. “Oh don’t do that whole ‘I don’t care’ bullshit,” she says. “You care.”

“I do not.”

“You should never be an actor.”

“Why do I even bother talking to you?”

“Because secretly you love me.” She gives him a big, fake smile, and Connor rolls his eyes.

“Yeah right.”

“You’re right. It’s not really a secret,” she says. As much as he wants to glare, a small smile creeps on his lips. “See, there. Things aren’t terrible. Give him time. He’ll change his mind.” She raises an eyebrow and starts to walk off. “Just stop sulking,” she calls over her shoulder.

“I’m not!”

“You are, and it doesn’t suit you.”

Connor groans and makes his way to the library to study before he goes to his other class. Even when he tries to push it out of his mind, it tugs at it all the way through his other class and until he gets home.

He walks to his room and pulls his laptop out of his backpack. Connor wets his lips and cracks his knuckles. Soulmate or not, it’s been a while since he’s had a challenge. If nothing else, he’s going to get Oliver to agree to go out to coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to thank all of you for your kind words. All of your comments have meant the world to me, and every time I get that little e-mail notifying me that another one is left, it makes my day!


	4. Opaque

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oops, so I posted this chapter to the wrong fic, accidentally. Anyway, life got in the way and kept me from updating. I'm so sorry for leaving you all hanging. I'd feel so guilty every time I'd see a new comment or more kudos, but I had such little energy. In any case, the new chapter is finally here! I hope all of you enjoy!

Connor waits a few days before sending Oliver another message. He doesn’t want to seem overly eager. Besides, he knows that sending a message right away will only make Oliver more certain in his decision. When he actually decides to write it, he seems at a surprising loss of words.

“Michaela, I don’t know how to do this,” he finally says after three hours of trying. He leans his head on the coffee table in their living room and lets out a whine.

“That’s because you’ve never had to apologize once in your life.” Michaela sits down on the couch next to him. “Okay, this is awful.”

The letter as it is reads:

_I’m really sorry I fucked up, but it would really mean a lot to me if we could meet for coffee. It doesn’t have to be romantic. I just genuinely want to apologize – not that coffee is exactly that great of an apology, but they say it’s the thought that counts!_

“I don’t even know how you could write that and think that was even close to okay.” She sneers and deletes it all.

“Yeah, I it’s godawful. I think the first few copies were the best. I just want to sleep.” Connor looks up at Michaela with a pout. “It’s almost midnight, and I have a test at eight tomorrow. I’m not even going to be able to fucking focus if I don’t get this stupid letter out of the way, and –”

“Connor, I’m going to need you to stop rambling.” She stares at the Facebook chat for a second before taking the laptop and typing. Connor tries to look up at it, but she swats him away. “I can’t concentrate with you breathing down my back. Go get a glass of water or something. I’ll let you know when it’s finished.”

Connor paces across the kitchen, sipping nervously at his water. He knows that he should probably be the one writing it. His heart feels caught in his throat as he leans against the counter. The anxiety slowly bubbles in his throat. It usually comes along when he has too many tests and papers – when he can’t sleep for days. But over a boy? The last time was when he was eighteen. Just when he thinks he can’t stand it anymore, Michaela calls out to him.

“You can come in, Connor. And just so you know, I’m not doing this for you again. You need to take responsibility for your own life.”

He sets his glass down in the sink and darts forward to read it. Michaela hands him back his laptop, and he takes a deep breath.

_Oliver,_

_I know this is yet another violation of your privacy. While I can understand the side-effects, I know I can’t comprehend the betrayal of trust you must feel. Regardless if what we had was just one night, that night was a game changer for both of us._

_I’m kind of a selfish dick. Or a huge one. I was so sure I’d never find a soulmate. I never wanted to. The whole idea of romantic Powers that Be sounded like bullshit to me. And commitment isn’t really my style. It’s never been. So I was scared when I woke up. Terrified, really. And I panicked._

_I’m sure the fact that I fled was maybe not forgivable but at least understandable. But I put my thoughts first. I put my worry first. I tried to ignore what was happening – the headaches and dizziness and even the dreams. I didn’t even think about how you were going through the same because I tried to convince myself so much that this didn’t mean anything._

_And I’m definitely a shitty person for that._

_This isn’t supposed to be some sort of reason for forgiveness. I understand that we’re past that point. And I really understand why you don’t even want anything to do with me. I wouldn’t want anything to do with me either in your position. But I at least felt you deserved an explanation. I know you probably wondered so many times what possessed me to run away and never look back. I know that is unfathomable for most people._

_If I could, I would take it back, but I’m sure those words mean little to nothing at this point._

_I won’t be offended if you decide not to respond, and I won’t pressure you anymore. The ball is in your court entirely, but the offer for coffee is always going to be there if you change your mind. It doesn’t have to be a date. In fact, I kind of expect it not to be one, but you deserve to hear all of this in person if you so decide that’s what you want._

_Again, I’m so sorry for the pain I’ve caused you. I’m so sorry for not being the soulmate you expected or the one you deserved._

_Connor Walsh_

When Connor finishes it, his head races. He speaks before he can even fully process the letter. “Look, I can’t send this.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not going to tell him I was that scared or that I’m shitty or that I’m a giant dick! Look, it’s not even true.”

Michaela gives him an icy look akin to the look that a mother would give a child who has continuously disrespected her. “You can keep on going with this tough guy act with others if you want, but you fucked this guy over – who knows how badly.”

“I know, and I told him that I’m sorry,” Connor says, though his stomach sinks lower. He looks away from Michaela into his lap.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it at this point. Sorry is for eating that piece of cake your friend was saving for later. Sorry is cutting someone in line.” The words feel like a slap to the face, and he grits his teeth.

“Like you’re one to talk. When was the last time you said sorry?”

She flinches but doesn’t relent. “Right now, this isn’t about me. Say what you want, but you’re deflecting because you can’t handle the fact that perfect little Connor Walsh screwed up the first relationship that had potential since Aiden.”

Connor’s throat closes up, and he can feel tears stinging at his eyes. He pushes them back and tries to swallow the lump in his throat. “Fuck you. Fuck you and that stupid pedestal you sit on. I didn’t have a relationship with your fucking fiancé, and I definitely didn’t have one with Oliver.” Michaela looks at him with something close to pity and reaches out to grab his hand.

“I shouldn’t have said that. That’s not true.” Connor jerks away from her touch.

“Well, you did, and you can tell me that’s not what you meant, but you believe it. Since the first day you two met, you’ve been rubbing it in my face that you won as if it was some stupid competition.” He roughly grabs his laptop back from Michaela and gets up.

“I can’t get into this argument right now.” She runs a hand through her hair and gets up. “You need to send Oliver a proper apology if you ever want to see him!”

It takes a moment to cross to the wall and unplug his laptop. He grabs his phone off of the coffee table and shoves it in his pocket. “Sure, avoid the question. Notice you didn’t even say you were sorry, you hypocritical bi –”

“Oliver isn’t some stupid twink that’s going to run back into your arms.”

“Well, I didn’t say that’s what I even wanted.”

“Why do you have to be so stubborn? You know I’m right!” Michaela shouts.

The door to Michaela’s room opens. Aiden’s wearing nothing, and his eyes are half-open as he glances at both of them. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I’m going to bed so that I can maybe pull off a C+ instead of an F on my test tomorrow.” Connor storms out and slams the door of his bedroom behind him as loudly as he can. He makes his way to his bed, breathing heavily and buries his face in his arms. His breaths come faster as he shakes, and he draws his knees to his chest.

He can hear Michaela speaking fast and angrily at Aiden. He can’t make out the words, but right now he wants to drown them. Finally, Michaela’s door slams shut as well, and he closes his eyes. He doesn’t expect the knock on his door, and he jumps.

Aiden opens it, and when he sees Connor, his face falls. “Con…” He takes one step forward before Connor shakes his head.

“Out.”

“I just want to help.”

“I don’t need your fucking pity right now. Out!” He points at the door, his voice shaking. He knows he probably looks like a wreck, but Aiden leaves with one final look.

Moments after Aiden closes the door, Connor hears Michaela screech. “I’m your fiancée. You’re supposed to take my side on principle! And I don’t need you lecturing me on how I’m a bad person!” He doesn’t hear anything for a few minutes until Michaela screams again. “You’re sleeping at your place.”

By the time Aiden packs his bags up and goes, Connor can breathe normally. He goes to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth, and he stares for a moment at himself. His eyes are bloodshot and surely red, but he can’t tell.

He closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath, counts to five, and lets it out. When he crosses his room, he gets back into bed and opens his laptop. The internet browser is open to his chat with Oliver, and one look is all it takes for the panic to set in.

He knows he must have accidentally hit the enter button when he grabbed his laptop back from Michaela because the message Michaela wrote for Oliver has already been sent.

\- - -

Connor avoids the apartment as much as possible for the next few days. He checks his messages periodically. Again, Oliver reads his message by the time Connor checks after his test—which he miraculously manages to scrape by with a B+ on it. It takes all of his energy, but he throws himself into his schoolwork. He spends hours at the library.

The library he fucked months ago seems to have picked up a shift again, and he finds himself in the travel section again, pressing him up against the shelves and fucking him. He leaves hickeys down his neck and shoulders and digs his nails into the man’s back, leaving angry, red welts every time.

The first few times he and Michaela run into each other at the apartment, they pretend they don’t exist. Before the week is up, Aiden is back, and this time he wraps his arms around Michaela. He gives Connor the silent treatment as well which is only less severe than Michaela’s because Connor catches Aiden giving him sad looks when Michaela isn’t looking.

It takes Michaela a week and a half, but she is the one to break the silence between them. “I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

Connor doesn’t miss a beat before responding. “No, you fucking shouldn’t have.”

“I’m just…” She takes a deep breath, and Connor continues stirring the cream into his coffee. “I’m really sorry.” It’s the first genuine apology he feels he’s ever heard Michaela say. When he looks over at her, she tries not to meet his eyes. He can tell she’s uncomfortable, but there is something softer to her as well. He can see the side of Michaela that made him build a friendship over two years.

He wets his lips. “As you should be.” He puts the creamer back in the fridge before looking at her again. “Although, for the record, apology accepted.”

He can feel the rush of things he’s wanted to tell her, and the air is still and uncomfortable. It takes a minute before he breaks it. “I accidentally sent the message you wrote to Oliver.”

“Did he respond?”

Connor takes a sip of his coffee and shakes his head. “I don’t know if he will. Also, I’ve been fucking Josh, the guy in the library like basically every day.”

“In the library?” Michaela asks. “What if you get caught? Seriously, Connor!”

“Oh, calm down. No one’s seen us yet. We do it in the travel section. Seriously, who even goes in the travel section? Have you ever gone?” Michaela presses her lips in a thin line.

“I guess not.”

“It’s fine. But I swear I’ve fucked him enough that he’s going to think we’re steady or something.”

Michaela snorts, and Connor smiles as he feels the tension that he didn’t even know was in his stomach slowly melt away.

\- - -

Oliver responds a month later. Connor is buried under a pile of books, studying for his finals when he hears the ping. He expects it to be Wes – the only person currently not at their study group. When he sees that it’s Oliver, he can’t bring himself to open it.

“Hello, earth to Connor. Bro, come on…” Connor looks up to see Asher giving him an expectant look.

“What?” Connor looks around to see everyone staring at him.

“You’re the one who was supposed to cover that case. What are your notes?” Laurels asks.

“Oh, right.” He shoves his phone to the side and looks leaf through his papers. He pulls it out and does his best to focus on the study group for the rest of the afternoon.

“Connor!” Michaela asks him when they finally leave. “What did you see on your phone? You looked… kind of terrified.”

He stops and pulls his phone out of his pocket before showing the notification to her. She snatches it from him, and Connor lets out a noise in protest. “Give it back.”

“You haven’t even opened the message.”

“I wasn’t expecting it, and it wasn’t exactly like I could just stop studying with everyone else around. He takes his phone back from Michaela and stares at the screen.

“Do it now, then,” Michaela says. “I’m curious.”

He sighs and clicks on it.

_4 PM, next Saturday at Elixr Coffee Roasters. Don’t make me regret my decision._

He lets out a sigh of relief and looks at Michaela. “He’s actually agreed.” It takes him a moment to realize that’s the Monday after that, he has one of his worst exams. “Shit. I need to reschedule.”

“Don’t you dare! He won’t give you another shot. You have to do it. Besides, it might be over with quickly for all you know.” Michaela crosses her arms over her chest and gives him a stern look.

Connor glares at her, but he knows she’s right. “Fine. I’ll just get a B on this test. It better be worth it.”

_4 PM at Elixr. See you there._

\- - -

Connor glances at his watch. Oliver is running ten minutes late. He can’t help but wonder if Oliver is doing this as some sort of prank. He made Oliver wait five months before he even tried to find him. Maybe Oliver is going to stand him up now to make him have some idea of how that feels. He decides he’ll give it another ten minutes.

Ten turns into fifteen, and Connor feels nauseous by the time Oliver walks through the doors a little over half an hour late. He isn’t sure if he should wave or get up for Oliver to notice him, but Oliver finds him before he can decide.

He makes his way over to the table and sets a laptop bag down beside his chair. Connor’s grip on his coffee tightens. “Hi,” he says. “You’re… late.” It’s not the best thing he can say, and Oliver seems to agree because his eyes narrow slightly before he answers.

“Not that I owe you an explanation, but I had a departmental meeting, and it ran late.”

“I just thought that…”

“I was standing you up. Trust me – I considered it.” He shifts into his pocket and pulls out his wallet.

“I can get your coffee.”

“I’d really rather you didn’t.” With that, Oliver walks off to stand in line. It takes him a few moments to gather his thoughts. He glances over at Oliver a few times as he inches closer to the front of the line, order, and then waits.

When Oliver finally walks back, Connor puts on his best brave face. “I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry for what I did,” he says. “I know you probably don’t want to hear me say it again.”

“You have no idea,” Oliver says. Connor glances down at the table between them and tries to come up with something to say. He can feel a million defenses raising in his throat, but for once he realizes that it’s probably not the best idea to speak his mind. Before he can think of anything adequate to say, Oliver speaks again. “You left me hanging. You at least made a decision, but what you did _happened_ to me. I ran around telling my friends I met my soulmate, and then they watched as I was humiliated. There was a time I thought you’d died, but if you’d died, the color would have just been cut from my life.”

“I know.” Connor picks at the lid of his coffee cup.

“I just don’t understand why you’re so scared,” Oliver says.

Connor’s hands shake as he lifts the coffee cup to his lips. His heart races. Most guys don’t make him feel vulnerable. He knows how to play them. In fact, Michaela and Aiden always joke that given five minutes with a man, he can tell exactly what they’re into and how to get them in bed – be they queer or just curious.

“You had to have felt it too when you woke up – that warm, bubbly feeling.” His voice is softer, and his eyes flicker to Connor’s shaking hands. “That feeling of being connected.” His brow furrows as he looks at Connor. “I just don’t get why you would throw that away for no reason.”

 “It’s not no reason.”

“No?”

Connor shakes his head. That’s a jar of worms he doesn’t want to open right now. “I’m sorry. I don’t really like talking about it with people I don’t know. It’s… personal.” He sets his cup down. “I know that’s not great. I know you deserve an explanation, but…” When he trails off, Oliver tilts his head to the side. “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just… not the guy I remember at the bar.”

“In which way?”

“I really didn’t expect that second message,” Oliver says. He stirs his straw around in his iced coffee. “I thought you’d be more pompous than that.” He sighs, and Connor can see that angry exterior slowly fading. “I didn’t think you’d ever write such a meaningful apology, but you should know that it did count for something. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

Connor considers taking credit for it, but ultimately he knows he can’t in good conscious. He curses internally before speaking. “I can’t take credit for that.”

“What?”

“I spent hours trying to write a response, and my response was way, way worse than that. I’m kind of shit at apologies.” He runs a hand through his hair and looks at Oliver, but his expression, for once, is inscrutable. When Oliver doesn’t reply, he continues. “I asked my roommate for help, and she just decided to write it. I really didn’t ask her to do that, but she did, and I actually hadn’t wanted to send it at first, but I accidentally did. It’s all true, and I’m glad that it sent. I just can’t say I wrote it.” He leans back in his chair as he feels everything crashing down again. He waits for Oliver to get up.

Instead, Oliver smiles.

“I didn’t expect honesty from you.”

“What?”

“That’s awful that you didn’t, and I think I’m a little pissed off, but honestly?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you told me.” He smiles at Connor, and Connor can’t help but smile back. “It’s refreshing to know you’re being honest for once.”

“I’m not being honest for once. I was honest before,” he protest.

“Don’t push your luck.” Connor swears he hears a teasing edge to Oliver’s voice. “So I guess this is the part where I actually find out about you.”

“You actually want to hear about me?”

“I’ll let you know if I change my mind.” Oliver leans forward, and Connor swears he can almost see the faintest color at the edges of his vision. He smiles into his coffee cup as he lifts it up to his lips and takes a sip.

“I’m a law student at Middleton University,” he says.

“Impressive. I’ve heard Middleton’s pretty prestigious.”

“For how hard the classes are, it better be. I actually graduate soon, though. My last exam is this Tuesday. And I take the bar exam in July.”

“Oh, wow. That’s really soon.” Oliver smiles. “Like law or did your parents force you to go into it?”

Connor shakes his head. “My mom’s always been really supportive of me. I wanted this. I guess I’ve always been a little competitive.” He laughs.

“Not surprising. You cocky types always are.”

“Oh, cocky?”

Oliver looks at him with amusement. “You seriously can’t even try to deny that.”

“Okay, so I’m a little cocky. Sue me.”

“Any family members? Or is it just you and your parents?” Oliver asks.

“I have a sister. She has a husband and two kids. They’re really cute. She and her soulmate met when she was in high school, actually. Proper high school sweethearts and all.” He takes another sip, and Oliver gives him a warm look.

“That’s cute.”

“So says everyone.”

“You disagree?”

“I like the guy. I just don’t… You already know I wasn’t really a fan of soulmates until a while ago.” When Oliver’s lips curl into a wide grin, Connor bites his cheek. “What?”

“You said until a while ago? So you are now?”

“That’s not what I meant. I don’t know how I feel.” His cheeks burn as he drops his eyes to the table. Oliver chuckles.

“Fine, I won’t press it. Something tells me you’ll say something we both regret.”

“Fair, so what about you?” Connor asks.

“Just my parents and me. I got a dog recently. Does that count?”

“Oh, what breed?”

“A mutt. I got her from the humane society. She was a little scraggly, but she kept on licking my hand.” Oliver’s eyes glaze over a little as he mentions his dog. He presses his fingers together, and his smile turns serene as he thinks of his dog. Connor can’t tell if it’s their soulmate connection or the fact that his friends aren’t particularly expressive, but Oliver seems so much more expressive than most people who knows.

He bites his tongue to avoid commenting on it.

“You live near Middleton, I’d guess,” Oliver says when he slowly faces back into his surroundings.

“Yeah.”

“So this isn’t particularly close for you?”

“Not really, but I figured I shouldn’t cancel on you. Or shift it around. Well, actually, the same roommate who wrote the message told me that was a bad idea.” He reaches for his coffee which has started to get cold.

“I’m not surprised. She sounds like a smart woman.”

“She’d be really pleased to hear you say that.”

“So do you just live with her?”

“Uh, most of the time, her boyfriend lives with us.”

Oliver winces. “That’s never fun being the constant third wheel.”

“Probably even less fun than usual considering he’s basically the only person I’ve ever really dated.” Oliver gives him a sympathetic look.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, well, it’s okay now. If you’d asked me two and a half years ago, I would have been furious. She and I used to hate each other, so it was especially shitty.”

“Is that why you hate soulmates?” Oliver asks.

“Nah. Other reasons.” The conversation comes to a brief halt as Oliver looks down at his iced coffee, and Connor clears his throat. “So, what about you? Live with anyone?”

Oliver’s expression immediately turns uncomfortable, and Connor wonders what he’s asked wrong. He continues avoiding Connor’s gaze when he replies. “With my boyfriend, actually.”


	5. Sepia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter ended up being 7000 words long, and I haven't even gotten near to where I wanted this chapter to go... so there are now 8 chapters total.

“A boyfriend? Oh.” Connor does his best to seem neutral, but his stomach twists and dips. He wants to tell Oliver that he should have told him and that he had a right to know, but he knows that he can’t say it without being a hypocrite. Oliver owes him nothing, and for once he knows to bite his tongue.

Oliver laughs uncomfortable and fiddles with his hands. “We moved in together kind of fast, but the circumstances…” Oliver focuses his gaze intently on the table.

“That’s nice though.” The room seems a bit chillier to Connor as their conversation reaches a standstill. He isn’t sure what to say. It doesn’t hit him until that moment that he had thought he had some sort of a chance. Somehow, the world seems more gray than usual.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“It’s fine,” Connor says, and he scoffs, trying to pull himself together. He rolls his eyes despite refusing to meet Oliver’s gaze. “I mean, I’m the one who asked you who you lived with anyway, and it’s really not a big deal.”

“Connor…”

“Tell me more about yourself.”

When Connor meets Oliver’s eyes, Oliver presses his lips in a tight line. After a moment, he deflates and seems to decide to drop the subject. “What do you want to know?”

“You work for IT? How did that start?”

“You found that when you did your research?” Oliver asks. Connor gives him a sheepish smile. “Fine, well, I mean, I was pretty good with technology when I was little.” His lip twitches up, and he turns his cup between his hands. “I always got myself into trouble.”

“No offense, but you don’t seem like a trouble-maker.” Connor can still feel the knot in his stomach, but he tries his best to ignore it and steady his heart.

“When I was in fourth grade, they didn’t allow you to check out more than five books at my school.”

“I can tell this is really headed toward a heart-stopping, dangerous tale.”

Oliver laughs and pushes his glasses up his nose. “Just wait. It gets better.”

“I’m sure.”

“Anyway, I read a lot more than most kids, so I ended up hacking the system to allow myself to take out more. I was always careful to return them in increments of five, so it took the school almost six months to realize what I’d been doing.”

“Well, weren’t you the little rebel?”

“Anyway, by the time we got to high school, they blocked most of the interesting sites, and it was easy enough to create a proxy system where we could access anything I wanted. I once hacked my English teacher’s computer to change my grade on a midterm to an A.”

“Okay, that is a little more edgy. I wish I could have done that for physics. I hated that fucking class.” He leans his elbow against the table, and the lump in his throat begins to fade. “But so you always knew you wanted this?”

“Ideally, I’d like a job with the government, but I wasn’t really sure if I had the qualifications to apply, and anyway, I’m not sure if they’d be able to track my IP address to when I – Never mind. That’s not really the point.” Oliver seems to sense that the tension is relieving as well because he lets out a small laugh.

“It sounds like you’re plenty qualified to me.”

“I do like my job, for the moment. It does have pretty decent benefits.” He pauses before adding, “But thank you.”

Silence falls between them again, and Connor clears his throat. “I don’t know if you want this to be a one-time thing, but I’d be happy to grab dinner or lunch or brunch or whatever with you at some point. You can pick the restaurant.”

“Connor –”

“As friends. I want to get to know you, but I promise I won’t try to…” He doesn’t know which words to use. He has a feeling Oliver wouldn’t really appreciate him saying he will try not to seduce him.

“I’ll think about it.” When Connor gives him a skeptical look, he nods his head and reaches out to grab Connor’s hand, “Promise.”

When their fingers touch, Connor swears he feels his heart start. He feels stupid saying so, but his eyes widen a bit as he stares down at their hands. It feels warm and oddly nice. He’s sure he is the only one to feel it until Oliver jerks back. Connor looks up to find him pale and confused. When he refuses to meet his eye, Connor knows it’s time to change the subject.

“What drink did you get?” When Oliver gives him a quizzical look, he continues. “Your coffee order. Just plain iced coffee?”

“Hazelnut shot in as well, but usually get a Mayan Mocha. I like the little kick. It’s just too hot to do that now.” He manages to relax, and Connor leans back. He runs a hand through his hair. “What about you?” Oliver asks.

“What’s my coffee order? I’m less exciting. Usually coffee with three shots of espresso and sugar, no cream.” When Oliver’s eyes widen, Connor laughs. “A bit strong, I know.”

“A bit? How do you not get a heart attack?”

“You forget, I’m a law student. I can’t count the number of nights I’ve pulled all-nighters.”

“That’s awful.”

“Yeah, I doubt I’m going to sleep until Tuesday is over.”

“Because of your exams?” Oliver takes another sip of his now partially watered down ice coffee.

“Yeah, I should be studying for them right now, but…”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Oliver says. He drops his gaze down to his coffee cup, and Connor quietly curses himself for saying that.

“No, I’d much rather be here. Trust me, you’re a lot more fun that textbooks.”

“Well, that’s sweet of you to say. Should we maybe wrap this up? I really don’t want you to do poorly on something that’s so important just because you’re grabbing a coffee. And you anyway said you don’t live anywhere near here.” His voice speeds up as he speaks, and Connor knows that it’s time to give up.

“Sure.” They both get up, and Oliver stops before grabbing his laptop bag. Connor is almost positive Oliver is wondering what he is – should they hug? Is that acceptable? Is it inappropriate? Will it cause the same sort of feeling that their hands touching did?

Oliver seems to decide otherwise because he grabs his laptop bag at the last moment. “Thanks for the genuine message – even if your roommate was the one to write it.”

“Sure thing.” Connor pauses before adding, “Can we grab that lunch at some point, at least? Maybe in a week or two when I’m not fried from tests.”

Oliver takes a moment to consider before nodding his head. “Yeah, you know, sure. This was short, and I guess I didn’t hate you.” The teasing edge is back in his face, and Connor bites back a smile.

“Well, that’s a step up.”

“I’ll message you whenever I’m ready to hang out.”

\- - -

“He has a boyfriend?” Michaela asks. Connor’s shoulders slump forward.

“Yeah, well, he’s happy, and it doesn’t really matter.”

“Clearly it does if you’re pouting and eating ice cream when you know you should be studying.”

“I happened to be in the mood for ice cream,” Connor says, holding his Ben & Jerry’s container defensively. “And maybe I care a little, but that’s not the point.”

“Well, you seemed like you were dying to give it a shot with him. And honestly, he sounds like a guy with good taste.”

“You’re just saying that because I told you that he likes you and thought highly of your message.”

“I’m just glad you accredited me,” Michaela says, sitting down next to him. “Proud of you. I didn’t know you could put your vanity aside like that.”

“Ha, ha.” Connor looks over at her as he shovels another spoonful of the chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream in his mouth. “I’ll study in a moment. Stop judging me.”

“I can’t help it. You’re a little pathetic right now.”

“I’m not pathetic!” Connor angry motions with his spoon, and a bit of ice cream drops on his pants. “Okay, but only just a little.” When he sets the ice cream down on the table, he leans forward and squeezes his brow. “Why do I even care?”

“Because you’re stubborn. You were stubborn about now doing boyfriend, and now you’re stubborn about wanting him as one. You act on impulse. If you hadn’t just ran as soon as you realized he was your soulmate, maybe you’d still be seeing in color, and –”

“Really, Michaela, don’t stop on my account. I’m so glad I have you to comfort me as a friend.” He gets up and grabs the ice cream with him, moving toward the kitchen. He clenches his jaw together as Michaela follows him, but as much as he hates it, a part of him knows that she’s right. Somewhat.

“I’m just being honest. You need to be real with yourself, Connor. What do you want out of this relationship?”

“Nothing!” He puts the ice cream in the freezer and lets out a sign. “I don’t know,” he says more quietly. “I have no fucking idea.”

“Okay, well, start friends, then. If you’re soulmates, he’s going to have to realize sooner or later that he can’t date that other guy forever.” She gives him a sympathetic look.

“Yeah, but people have dated people other than their soulmate before and been happy with it – plenty of people.”

“How about you calm down and focus on your work because you can’t even do anything about it until you meet up with him again?” She grabs him by the arm and leads him over to the kitchen table where his books and notes are scattered out all across the table. “This will help.”

Connor sits down, and as soon as he does his phone dings with a notification. Connor slips it out of his pocket, and his heart stops. “Michaela…” His hand shakes, and he looks up at her frantically. “Michaela, I don’t know what to do. Oh, God.”

“Are you okay?”

“He friend requested me on Facebook.”

Michaela’s look of worry vanishes, and she crosses her arms across her chest. “If there’d been Facebook while we were in middle school, _this_ is what it would have looked like. Grow up and study. We’re having study group tomorrow, and everyone’s going to be pissed if you come unprepared and leeching off of us.”

With that she walks away.

\- - -

“How did your man date go?” Asher asks.

“My man date?”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re two guys.”

“Well, we had our man coffee and a man discussion, and then we man parted ways.” Connor rolls his eyes, and Laurel lets out a small laugh behind her hand. Asher makes a face at him, sticking out his tongue, and Connor stares down at his books.

He doesn’t like it when everyone breathes down his back. He can see all their curious gazes. Connor the miraculous fuck up who let his soulmate go – he’s sure they’re thinking. The judgement is in their eyes behind the curiosity, and he just wants to walk away. He would if studying with them wasn’t so important.

“Don’t we have class notes to be comparing or something? Laurel, didn’t you say your boyfriend was gonna give you some stuff from when he was a student?” Connor asks.

“Yeah, he did. I’m not giving it out until everyone shows me they have something to contribute.” She gives him a challenging look, and he slides his laptop over to her.

“Eat your heart out. I pulled out all the quotes she refers to both about the cases and from the textbook into one document. I’m sure it’ll help to have it straight out of her mouth.”

“It’s the last time we have to study together. Let’s just all do well and get it over with, and we never have to see each other again,” Michaela says.

Laurel pauses before putting the test book onto the table. “Fine. Who wants it first?”

All of them simultaneously answer, “Me.”

“Why don’t we just rotate in a circle,” she says.

“Or we could just use the copier to print it,” Michaela says, motioning over. She gets up without another word and makes her way over to it.

“Really, though… how did it go?” Wes asks, tilting his head. He looks so concentrated and fascinated, and Connor just wants to sink into his seat. He doesn’t want to discuss this with any of them, let alone tell them what had actually happened.

“It went fine.” His fingers squeeze around the textbook, and he grits his teeth as he looks down, trying to focus instead on his notes.

“You don’t look fine,” Wes says.

“I don’t owe you an explanation of any part of my lives. We work together. We’re not friends.”

“We’re kinda friends,” Asher says. When everyone glares at him, he raises his hands. “What, you all are my homies. We spend so much time together. We basically don’t have time to actually have real friends except for maybe one or two people and our roommates. Annalise keeps us on a leash – which, whatever – but I mean, used to hate each other. I kinda like solving cases with you.” Everyone falls silent, looking at Asher. “I can’t be the only one.”

“I guess you’re not all _terrible_ ,” Laurel says.

“Such high praise,” Connor says. He pauses before speaking. “I guess… Yeah, no one’s experience law school the same way we have together, working with Annalise.”

“And we know a little too much about each other’s personal lives,” Wes adds, smiling a little. They all laugh, relieving the tension.

“See. We’re homies,” Asher says.

“Never use that word,” Michaela says. She sits down and hands out paper clipped copies of the test to everyone. “What were we talking about?”

“We were trying to get Connor to tell us more about his date,” Wes says. “He refuses.”

“Why do you care so much?” Connor asks, glaring at Wes.

“Because I’ve seen you zone out in Annalise’s class and watched you when you just moped around in a hoodie and – it’s just not who you are. And maybe I’d just like to know that things are… looking up for you.”

Laurel gives a small nod, and Asher turns to face Connor with an expectant look.

“It wasn’t a date.” Connor avoids looking at any of them and picks at the corner of his textbook. “We just met up. We’re meeting up again in a week or two.”

“That sounds like a date,” Laurel says.

“It wasn’t.”

“How are you so sure?” she asks.

“Because he has a boyfriend.”

Everyone falls silent. “Connor…” Michaela lays a hand on his arm.

“I don’t want anyone’s pity. It’s fine. We’re going to try being friends. I left him for several months, so just – it’s fine, and I really don’t want to talk about this because we have a fucking test coming up.”

Everyone nods, and Laurel’s the first one to start. “So, do we want to start by just going over the test together? I was probably going to just write some notes in the margins.”

\- - -

Laurel wraps an arm around Connor’s shoulder and laughs as she leans into him. “I mean, you’re an asshole, but Asher was right. I don’t _hate_ you. You’re pretty okay. And apparently a human being with emotions, so mazel tov.”

Connor groans and takes another shot. “Listen, I just don’t like people prying into my life, which is exactly what happened when I told you all about me.” He laughs and shakes his head. “Not me. Oliver. I meant, Oliver. Although I guess me too.” He waves over the bartender. “Can I get five shots of tequila?” he asks. He digs in his pocket for his wallet and pulls money out of it. “Can you go find the others?” he asks to Laurel.

She nods. “I’ll be back. Promise.”

“Good. You better.”

Connor leans against the bar and closes his eyes. His head spins, and he takes a deep breath. He’s done. He’s done. He never has to sit in a classroom again. He only has the bar exam left, and then he has to be a real person. Well, a proper adult. Connor knows he’s good at what he does, but the thought still seems oddly terrifying.

A few minutes pass, and the bartender comes over, setting the shots down. He places a slice of lime on top of each of them and puts a salt shaker next to them. “Not to tell you how to live your life, buddy, but you might regret if you drink all of those.”

“They’re for my friends. My friend is finding them ‘cause they’re dancing.”

“You just seemed a little distraught. I wanted to make sure.” He grabs another glass and the nozzle before giving him a glass of water. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” He pauses. “Maybe.” Pause. “Mostly.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really. I’m here to have fun. I just took my last class of law school, and now I have to go out and be a fucking adult – fuck.”

“I feel you.”

“Thanks for the shots.” He pulls out a five dollar bill to tip him. “Here ya go.”

He winks at him and slides over a napkin. “Thanks.” Laurel walks over with everyone, and their hands are all linked together as they pull through the crowd. “Bottom’s up,” the bartender says and walks away. It takes Connor a moment to realize that there is a number written on the napkin.

“We gonna do this or not?” Laurel asks him.

“C’mon, scoot, Con,” Michaela says. She pushes her way next to him and sees the napkin. “Look, look,” she calls out to everyone. “Connor’s got a _nuuuumber_.”

Laurel cat calls, and Asher slaps him a little too hard on his back. “Gonna get laaaaaid,” Asher screams probably loud enough for the bartender to hear even through the noise of the crowd, and Connor shoots him a glare. “Sorry.”

“Alright, let’s do the shots. You have to clink them all together and then set them on the table and then we should all make eye contact as we drink them,” he explains.

“That sounds like hard work,” Wes says. He licks his hand and grabs the salt shaker. When he’s done, he passes it to Laurel. They make their way down the line.

“But it’s how you take shots,” Connor whines. “It’s how you do it. C’mon.”

Michaela rolls her eyes and hands him the salt shaker. “Whatever, let’s humor him.”

They lick their hands and click their shot glasses together. “To finishing law school!” Asher says.

“Now we’re just getting cheesy,” Laurel replies. It takes a little bit of scrambling and pushing to click it down on the table, and they all down them, wince, and bit on their lime slice.

“Woo.” Wes says, setting his down.

“So what are you going to do about that number?” Michaela asks him.

“Yeah, you should totally do it,” Laurel says.

Connor looks down at the napkin. “He apparently gets off at four.” He looks at his watch. It’s two. “That’s way too long.”

“We’re gonna get you laid, and you’re gonna forget all about Oliver, and it’s gonna be great,” Laurel says.

“We’ve got you, bro,” Asher says.

“I haven’t had sex in a so long. I can’t.”

“Well, Oliver has a boyfriend, so we’re doing this,” Wes says. Laurel grabs him by his hand and tugs him into the crowd. The rest of them follow.

“Just dance, and we’ll keep an eye out for you too.” Laurel leans into his ear to whisper it, and Connor groans.

He gets into the rhythm fast enough. It’s been a long week, and it’s nice to finally relax, finally let go. He grinds back against Michaela at one point and laughs. The alcohol keeps a pleasant buzz, and the music echoes in his ears. After a few songs, Laurel and Michaela start to nudge him.

“What?”

“That guy over there has been staring at you for the past five minutes,” Michaela says, not so subtly moving her head in his direction.

“He keeps on catching us looking and looking away, but he’s definitely interested.”

Connor looks over just as the guy does, and the guy’s eyes widen a bit. He almost looks shy, and it’s oddly adorable. Connor takes a deep breath and moves over toward him. “My friends say you keep on staring,” Connor says, laughing.

“I didn’t think I was being so obvious.” He flushes, and Connor moves his hands around this guy’s neck.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind obvious.” He rolls their hips together, and the guy’s breath hitches.

“Ethan.”

“Connor.”

\- - -

Connor wakes up with a groan, shielding his eyes from the sun. “You’re awake.” Connor turns over to see Ethan looking at him. “I didn’t want to disturb you. You were kinda clunked out, and I figured you could use the sleep. You mentioned last night staying up for the past few days without it.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” He rubs his eyes and sits up. Ethan looks oddly disappointed, and Connor fiddles with his hands. “You okay?”

“Huh?”

“You look kind of upset. I don’t know if I sucked while I was drunk, but I promise that I’m usually okay, and I was probably tired. Oh God, I didn’t pass out on you in the middle of sex, did I?” Connor holds a breath.

“What? No. You were totally fine.”

“You don’t sound totally fine. Look, I only remember bits and pieces. You can tell me if I did something wrong. We have a shot for another go at it…” He tries to add a teasing edge to his voice, and Ethan smiles a little.

“It’s stupid,” he says.

“Listen, I can promise you that whatever it is, I won’t think it’s stupid.”

“No, it’s pretty stupid. It’s not you. It’s me…”

“This is starting to sound like a breakup.” Connor nudges him, and Ethan sighs.

“I keep on hoping whenever I hook up with a guy that the next day I’ll wake up and see color. Which is dumb. I had so much fun last night, and you were really funny, and I know I don’t know you, but a lot of people don’t know their soulmates very well or at all.”

Connor sighs. Ethan’s shoulders slump forward, and Connor runs a hand through his hair. “I wish you’d told me that last night. I could have just spared you the disappointment.”

“Huh?”

“I have a soulmate, so that was never going to happen.”

“You’re cheating on your soulmate?” Ethan recoils, and Connor shakes his head.

“No, no, it’s not like that.”

“Is he… dead?” Ethan leans back in a little.

“No. I didn’t think I did the whole soulmates thing. I just… I fucked up. I did, but he has a boyfriend now.”

“I’m so confused.”

“I slept with him kinda like how I slept with you, but I woke up early and freaked out. I kinda thought I’d never get a soulmate because that’s not really who I am, and when I did… I don’t like the concept of soulmates.”

When Ethan’s eyes go wide, Connor lets out a tired chuckle. “How can you not like the concept?”

“I’m not that kind of a guy. At least, I guess I didn’t think I was.” He pauses. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this shit. I need an Advil.”

“Clearly you need someone to listen.”

“I don’t… I don’t know you. I don’t share this stuff with my best friend. Well, only when she harasses me.” He gets up and looks around for his boxers. “Shit, what the hell did I do with them?”

“You kinda just got mostly undressed when we were going up the elevator and tossed them to the side as soon as we entered my apartment. Thankfully, my roommate was asleep. I don’t think she would have liked that. Although, she’s kinda an ass person, and you do have a nice ass.” Ethan gives him a warm smile. Connor sighs. “Can I borrow like a shirt and some sweats to go out and grab my clothes?”

“Yeah, sure. Those would be in my dresser.” He points, and Connor makes his way over there. “Sometimes it’s just easier to talk to someone else.”

“What?”

“It’s easier to talk to a stranger. I mean, you know we’re not going to see each other again. You kind of look like you just want to get out of here.”

The guilt floods him, and he turns back and sits on the edge of the bed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be that much of a dick.”

“No, it’s fine. We kinda just fucked, and that’s how it goes, but I’m just saying if you need to get anything off of your chest, I’m here to listen.”

“Who are you?”

“Ethan,” he says teasingly. “Have you already forgotten?”

“Not what I meant.” Connor stays seated and stares at the opposite wall. “I guess, it’s just weird. Like… I want to tell you stuff. And I don’t really do that. I’m not an open-up kind of guy.”

“Well, go. Tell me about him.”

Connor considers it for a moment before speaking. “He’s really sweet. I mean, he seems to be. And smart. I’ve barely even talked to him.” He lets out a sigh and sits in silence for a beat. “I screwed him over. I woke up first, and I freaked out, and I left before he was awake. I just snuck out. I knew where he was, and he didn’t know where I was, and it’s not so easy to find me when you don’t know my name or number or anything. So, I hid. I fucking hid, and I can’t even say I don’t know why because I know why, and I shouldn’t have. I know I shouldn’t have. But we didn’t talk for a long time, and I’m fucking stubborn.” He runs a hand through his hair. “And by the time I went back, he’d moved, and I found him online, and I messaged him. And he messaged me back finally, and we met. We met a few days ago, and we talked, and it was weirdly nice, and I was a nervous wreck, and I know this probably doesn’t convince you because I’m kinda rambling right now, but I’m not really the type to be a nervous wreck. And anyway, we met, and I thought it was going well, and then he told me he had a boyfriend. We’re going to try to be friends – I think. We’re meeting for lunch or something soon. But yeah. Anyway, that’s what you’ve missed on another episode of Connor’s life.”

Connor falls silent and stares at his hands. Ethan stretches and moves to sit up next to him. “But you two are going to meet up for lunch.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

“Well, win him back.”

“I don’t think it works that way.”

“If you’re soulmates, things will work out.”

It sounds awfully naïve to Connor, but he just smiles. At least someone has faith in his future. “Thanks.”

\- - -

“I thought we were going to grab lunch.”

“Dinner just seemed easier with work and all,” Oliver says, sitting down. “I hope you like Thai. And if you don’t, that’s too bad. And why, did you want lunch?”

“Well, I do love Thai, lucky for me,” Connor says. “And dinner’s fine.”

He picks up the menu but still looks over at Oliver. Oliver runs his finger down the menu and lets out a hum. “Should I get the curry or the pad see ew?”

“Well, I was going to get pad see ew, but I love curry, so if you wanted to share we could.” Oliver looks up at him and furrows his brow, and Connor slides down in his seat a little. “Or we could not. That probably sounded dumb.”

“You want to share plates?”

“We can just pretend I never said this and move on, really.”

Oliver gives him a quizzical look before nodding his head. “No, actually, that’s fine by me. I just hope you can handle spicy.”

“Of course I can handle spicy,” Connor says. “I may be white, but I still like some spice.”

“This isn’t Sriracha we’re talking about.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve had curry before.” He rolls his eyes, and Oliver laughs.

Silence falls between them, but for once it isn’t uncomfortable. “So, how did your tests go?”

“They went okay. I spent most of my time studying after we left the coffee shop. Michaela’s very good at keeping me on track even when I’m distracted.” He realizes how that sounds, and he winces and wants to backtrack. “I was really tired, and I just wanted to go to sleep,” he adds, hoping that’ll help smooth it over.

Oliver’s lips twitch up. “Nice save.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Somehow it’s flattering to know you actually care.” Connor grits his teeth, trying to avoid saying something he knows he’ll regret. Oliver doesn’t think that he _actually_ cares. He wants to tell him that of course he does because otherwise why the fuck would he be here sitting at this table with someone he barely knows just in the desperate attempt to get them back into his life somehow. “Sorry, that came out a lot harsher than I meant it to.”

“It’s fine,” Connor says, looking down at his empty plate with the napkin on top. “Which curry are we getting? Massaman?”

Oliver laughs, and Connor takes a deep breath to relieve the tension. “Green. Are you sure you want to do this?”

Connor knows there’s a good chance it’ll be too spicy for him, but he just nods. “Yeah, of course.”

“Oh, by the way, do you have any specific food restrictions – like are you vegetarian or something?”

“Nah. Any meat is fine by me.”

The waiter comes over and smiles. “Can I get you two anything to drink or start you off with any appetizers?”

“Actually, I think we know what we’re going to order,” Connor says. “I’m going Thai bubble tea as well as pad see ew with…” He looks over at Oliver, and Oliver shrugs. “With shrimp.”

The waiter scribbles it down and turns to Oliver. “I’ll have the same to drink and green curry and white rice.”

“How spicy?” the waiter asks.

Oliver smirks at Connor. “As spicy as you can make it.”

“Sounds good.” He walks away, and Connor glares.

“As spicy as you can make it?”

“I thought you said you can handle it. Regretting your decision.”

 _Yes_ , Connor thinks. “Absolutely not.” Oliver looks out the window as it gets quiet between the two of them. Connor doesn’t know what to ask about. A part of him wants to ask about Oliver’s boyfriend – know what he’s like, but he knows better than to do that. Maybe after hanging out a few times…

“How does it feel like to be done?”

“Amazing. But also terrifying,” Connor says. “After the bar exam… I’m a real adult.”

“You were only a fake adult before?”

“You’re not really a real adult until you have a full-time job. And I mean, I feel pretty prepared because god knows we’ve worked on some pretty difficult cases with Annalise, but… it’s weird. It’s weird thinking I’m going to have to go on without her. Or even without anyone else I work with.”

“Tell me about them.”

“They’re really not that interesting,” Connor says dismissively. “I don’t even know if we’re going to keep in touch. I mean, with Michaela for sure.”

“So, you two work together with three other people and… a boss?”

“Kinda.” The waiter comes over and sets down their drinks. Connor and Oliver mutter a thanks before Connor speaks again. “We do way too much of the work for her.” He spins is straw around to mix the tea up before taking a sip.

“Then you’re going to be great at what you do.” He gives Connor an encouraging smile and leans in. Connor can’t help but lean in as well, and his eyes fall to Oliver’s lips for the briefest moment before he blinks. He knows he can’t do that, and thankfully, Oliver hadn’t seemed to notice. “Tell me about them.”

Connor takes a deep breath. “So there’s Asher, who’s kind of a complete fratty type guy. Like the sort of straight guy who’s like _I’m cool with the gays_ but makes it really awkward. But he grows on you.” He shakes his head despite his mildly affectionate smile.

“I know the type. But it sounds like he’s a good guy.”

“Generally.” He wonders who to talk about next and settles on Wes. “Wes is… weird. He’s kind of distant and gets wrapped up in his personal life a lot. He got waitlisted to get into the school.” Oliver gives him a firm, disapproving look, and Connor immediately backtracks. “Which is totally fine because he’s just as capable as the rest of us – clearly since he works for Annalise.”

“Better. Try not to be an elitist maybe.”

“And there’s Laurel who is… I thought she was going to be one of those idealistic, sweet girls, but I was wrong. She’s kind of… badass in her own way. I’d never tell her that, though. She’s a pain in the ass as well.”

“She sounds kind of like a little sister, I’d imagine.”

Connor takes a moment to think over it and nods. “I guess in a weird way it’s kinda like that. It’s hard to think that way since my older sister and I are so close.”

Oliver’s smile turns warmer, and he leans in more – just slightly. “Okay, so then there’s Michaela, right? You said there were five?”

“Yeah. I fucking hate her sometimes, but we’re close, you know?”

“I don’t usually have that kind of a relationship with people. Although I’d imagine when we become friends…”

 _When_. Connor’s breath stops in his throat. He has to bite back a goofy smile and keep from being too outwardly excited. But god he is. If this were a movie, he knows a chorus of angels would sing right now. Hope floods him, and he nods his head as calmly as he can before continuing. “She’s so fucking smart. I’d never admit it to her, but I think she’s smarter than me.” He winces as he says it. “And she cares. She pretends she doesn’t, but if I didn’t have her, I would have –”

He cuts off, knowing where this is going. He would have been a wreck a few months ago. It’s unfair for him to say that to Oliver. He was the one in charge, and he could have stopped being stubborn. The abrupt ending causes Oliver to look confused. “You would have?”

“I would have lost it several times while in school,” he says, hoping that Oliver will take the bait. Oliver gives him a strange smile, and Connor sighs.

They look outside. “The rain’s picked up,” Oliver says.

“Yeah, that’ll be fun to walk home in. Well, hopefully it’ll get better before we leave. We still have time.”

The silence between them drags on for longer – a few minutes – and Connor feels his heart start to race. He has to stay interesting or else perhaps Oliver will change his mind. Before he can come up with something to say, the waiter comes back.

“Here is your food. Is there anything else you two need?” Connor and Oliver shake their heads. “Then enjoy!”

“God that looks good,” Connor says, looking at both of their plates.

“It’s my favorite Thai restaurant. It doesn’t have as good bubble tea as some others, but the food more than makes up for it.” He pauses before adding, “And I guess they put out chopsticks instead of a fork and a spoon, but I think that’s more of an aesthetic thing.”

Connor takes a bite of his pad see ew and lets out a moan. “Oh my god. I would marry this food if I could.” His eyes close as he takes another bite and lets out a quiet whine. “Fuck.” When he opens his eyes, he sees Oliver staring at him, cheeks flushed.

His look somehow triggers a part of a memory he’d forgotten. He can remember the way Oliver looked at him every time he moaned and held him closer. It’d been so long ago, and it seemed more like a concept. He’d been so focused on the consequences that he’d kind of forgotten what it was like. Strangely, he almost can sense that Oliver is thinking the same thing. He blinks twice and looks away from him.

“How’s your food?” Connor asks.

“It’s good,” Oliver says. “Do you want to try it?”

He pushes the bowl forward a bit, and Connor reaches out with his chopsticks, trying to grab a piece of beef. It slips through three times before Oliver starts laughing and takes pity on him. “Here, let me give it a go.”

He picks up a piece easily and hands it over. He’s about to set it on the plate over the pad see ew when Connor squeaks. “You’re gonna get curry sauce all over my food.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe how high-maintenance you are.” He sighs, and Connor reaches out to grab it from Oliver with his own chopsticks. “You’re going to drop it. Here…” He extends his arm so that Connor can lean in and eat it.

It seems like a couple’s move to lean in and take a bite off of Oliver’s chopsticks, but he can’t tell Oliver no. When he does, the thought immediately vanishes. “Oh my god. Oh my god. I need the rice. Give it to me,” he says, snatching it before Oliver can even do so and shoveling some rice into his mouth.

Oliver laughs loudly and covers his mouth immediately. “I told you. You are _weak_.”

Connor whines and follows the rice with a sip of his water. “Maybe we should both eat our own dishes. You can still have some of my food though because I’m not going to be able to eat all of this.”

They make their way through dinner, and Connor asks about Oliver’s friends. They seem kind and close. Most of them are from work, but he has a friend from his childhood who also lives in the city. The conversation relaxes, and Connor tries one more piece of curry – this time a potato which he stubbornly manages to capture with his own chopsticks – before resigning to the fact that it’s far too spicy for him. It feels oddly familiar with Oliver – comfortable once they get into the flow of conversation.

They drag it out as long as they can, eating slowly as they talk. But by the time the night is over and they’ve paid, they can’t stay without an excuse. Connor feels sad that it’s over. He stands up and grabs his umbrella. “It was really nice to get to catch up with you,” Connor says. “Can I have your number, actually, so that if you want to meet up again…”

Oliver nods immediately and takes out his phone. “Just enter your number into my phone, and I’ll call you. Connor types it in, and when Oliver hits call and his phone lights up, he feels warm and light.

“Thanks for this,” Connor says.

“I’m glad we got dinner,” Oliver says. “You give a bad first impression, but I guess you’re not completely terrible.”

Connor smiles and leans in for a hug. The moment their arms touch, the ground falls out beneath them. It feels right. Connor instinctually leans in and lets his head rest on Oliver’s shoulder. It shouldn’t feel like this. He knows it shouldn’t, but it was there in the coffee shop as well when they touched hands.

Oliver pulls back, and it takes Connor a moment for it to hit him. The world in general seems a little brighter, but he can see Oliver’s eyes. He doesn’t know which word to use, but they’re in color and all he can think is that they’re beautiful. “I’ve never seen your eyes in color before,” Connor says. He’d run away too soon to ever see.

“You can see it too?” Oliver pulls back suddenly. “I have to go. Matthew’s expecting me to be home – I’m sure.” With that, he leaves in a hurry.


	6. Tinted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you celebrate it, Merry Christmas Eve! If not, happy holidays!!

Connor yawns and stretches as he opens the cabinet to pull out the coffee grinds. When he pulls them out, he rubs his eyes. His body still hasn’t gotten used to the fact that he’s out of school. He was awake by seven and out of bed by eight.

“Good morning.” He turns around to see Michaela, still in her pajamas.

“You know, I was so excited to start sleeping in again,” Connor says. “At least for a little bit before we have to be real people.”

“I’m pretty sure law school counts as being real people. Sure felt like it.”

Connor laughs. “Okay, true. Real people _again_.”

“Tell me about it.” She sees Connor has the coffee grinds out, and she points to them. “Can you make me a cup as well?” she asks.

“Yeah.” He spoons out enough of the grinds and puts the bag back as the machine hisses. He watches as Michaela pulls out some cream and a yogurt.

“Heard back from Oliver yet?” Michaela asks.

Connor’s jaw clenches. “Nope.”

“You haven’t messaged him?”

“No,” Connor says, he turns around away from her and moves to grab two mugs.

“I’m amazed that you actually are able to have some self-restraint.”

Connor doesn’t say anything for a moment, but he feels Michaela’s eyes on him. After he has set the mugs down on the counter, he turns to face her with his arms crossed over his chest. “It’s been three weeks. I don’t know why he’s so afraid. We could see in color. Clearly that means something.”

“Yeah, well, he’s with a boyfriend he likes,” Michaela says. “You don’t exactly have a great track record. And if you two start spending time together, well…”

“There was a spark. I could feel it, and he could do,” he says. The coffee machine stops making any sound, and Connor turns around to grab the pot. “How much room should I leave for cream for you?” he asks.

“Fill it about four fifths up.”

“That’s really specific.”

“Do your best.” Connor pours Michaela’s and hands it to her before pouring his own. “Thanks. He needs space and time. You took your sweet time getting the courage to message him.”

“Yeah, but now I’ve proven that I care,” Connor says. He knows the argument is weak. He pours his coffee and grabs the sugar. He puts two spoonfuls in and stirs before handing it off to Michaela. “I just really wish he would let me have a second chance to prove it.”

“He’s given you a shot at being his friend – which is plenty generous in my opinion. If I were in his shoes, I would not have.” She moves over toward the kitchen table, and Connor follows. “At least, it would take a lot of groveling.”

“I groveled a lot!” Connor says.

“It takes more than you did.” She stretches in the chair and sighs. Connor taps his index finger against the mug and frowns. “Look, Con, I really wish I could tell you that you two are going to end up together. Really, I do, but I can’t promise you that.”

“Thanks for the moral support.”

“I’m just being honest. It wouldn’t be fair if I told you everything was going to work out fine. But hey, the impossible can happen. After all, I am friends with you.” She smirks, and Connor rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, it’s a miracle I haven’t kicked you out.”

“Excuse me, Aiden and I both live here. You’d be the one kicked out,” Michaela says.

“I’m the one who found the apartment.”

“I’d like to watch you try to kick me out, Walsh.” They hold eye contact for a while before both of them start laughing. “I hate you sometimes.”

“Right back at you.”

\- - -

Connor’s fingers tighten around his hair as he goes over his notes. He officially has a week until the bar exam. He knows it isn’t unusual for people to need to take it more than once, but… He looks up to scroll through the webpage: Ten Tips and Tricks for Passing the Bar Exam. He has two books checked out from the library that are supposed help as well. Right now, he’s not sure if they help at all.

“Connor,” the barista calls out. Connor gets out of his chair and walks toward the counter to pick up his drink.

“Thanks.” The woman nods her head and moves onto the next order. When he turns around, he spots Oliver in line, looking at him. He isn’t sure what to do, but when Oliver gives him a tense smile, he makes his way over. “Hey.”

“Hi. I didn’t expect to see you there.” Connor wants to tell him that it goes without saying. He can tell that Oliver is deciding whether to just jump out of line and leave. “Listen, I know that I’ve been out of touch…”

“That’s fine,” Connor says. “I understand.”

“Thanks.” He glances down at his watch.

“Here, if you want a white chocolate mocha, I can just give you mine and you can leave if you’re busy or running late,” Connor says.

“No, that’s fine,” Oliver says. The line moves forward again, and Oliver is next. “I’ll just stay.”  He seems oddly jumpy, and Connor feels the knot in his stomach tighten when Oliver continues avoiding eye contact. “What are you doing here?” he asks.

“I’m just studying for the bar exam.” Connor motions to his table where his laptop, books, and satchel still are. He knows he probably shouldn’t leave that unguarded for too long.

“Oh, you’re taking that soon, aren’t you?” Oliver finally meets his eyes.

“Yeah, in a week exactly.” He laughs nervously, and Oliver smiles.

“You’re going to do well. You seem hardworking. And you passed your finals. Did well?”

Connor smiled. “Decently.”

“All A’s?” Connor’s smile gives it away, and Oliver grins back. “Yeah, well, I’m not surprised.”

The person in front of Oliver leaves to wait for their order, and Oliver steps up to the cash register. Connor moves over to his table to put everything away. He knows at this point he’ll be too distracted to actually get any work done. And maybe he can ask Oliver if he wants to grab lunch. When he finishes packing, he meets Oliver as he waits for his drink.

There is no subtle way to do it, and he’s not exactly the subtle type anyway. “Do you want to go grab a bite?” he asks, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m running late.”

“Where are you going?” Connor asks.

“Hey babe, sorry I’m running late.” Connor jumps as a man speaks behind them, and he turns around to see a tall brunet in a button-up. It takes him a moment to realize that his eyes are fixed on Oliver.

“Um, it’s fine,” Oliver says.

Oliver is private about his love life on Facebook. He doesn’t even have his relationship status up, and he has set everything up so that Connor can’t even search through his friends. But this is Matthew. As much as Connor doesn’t want to admit it, he’s hot. Connor clenches his jaw.

“Oh, who’s your friend?” Matthew asks. “I’m Matt.” He reaches out his hand, and even though if he’s not sure if he should, Connor grabs it and shakes.

“Connor.”

Matthew’s smile falters a little - even if he’s quick to recover and look unaffected. “I’ve heard some – I guess you don’t need an introduction, huh?” He laughs, and Connor glances over at Oliver. Oliver is staring intently toward the counter where his coffee order is going to be called out.

“So, what do you do?” he asks.

“Oh.” Matthew seems surprised by the question. He clears his throat. “Well, I work as a teacher.”

“Oh, what subject?”

“I work for an elementary school. We don’t really do… subjects.” He looks over at Oliver as if expecting help as well, and when Oliver doesn’t look over, his brow furrows.

“That sounds really nice.” Connor knows that it shouldn’t surprise him that Oliver found someone so warm. How was he supposed to compete with elementary school teacher? He wanted to go into private practice. He didn’t have the patience to teach children. “Which grade?”

“Third. They’re really sweet. Most of them. Some are a little rowdy, but they just need to be shown love, and they’ll warm up.” Matthew clears his throat, and Oliver turns around.

“Sorry, it’s just taking forever to get the coffee,” Oliver says. His voice is much higher than usual. Matthew reaches out and takes Oliver’s hand in his, giving it a light squeeze. Almost immediately, Connor sees as Oliver’s shoulders relax a little.

“I’ve gotten a chance to meet several of his kids,” Oliver says. “They’re really sweet.”

Connor smiles and tries to swallow the lump in his throat. “I don’t think I’m going to be working with very many children in my line of work,” Connor says.

“Yeah, Oliver mentioned that you’ve just graduated from Middleton with a law degree,” Mathew says. The knowledge catches him off guard; it means that Oliver talks about him. He can’t help but feel better. He hopes it just doesn’t show on his face. “That’s pretty impressive.”

The barista calls out Oliver’s name, and he jumps forward as quickly as he can to grab the frozen coffees. “We really should run,” Oliver says. “I’m glad I saw you.” He smiles at Connor, and Connor feels his face heat up.

“Glad I saw you too.”

“We can’t now, but why don’t you come to lunch with us sometime,” Matthew says. It catches both he and Oliver off-guard.

“What?” Oliver asks.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Connor takes a step back. “I mean, I don’t want to intrude on your…” He isn’t sure where he wants to go from there. Their private time?

“Listen, I know this is awkward. Trust me, I can feel it.” He motions around between the three of them. “I know it’s not the most ideal situation, but you two have the… bond thing happening. And even if you can’t –” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “Regardless, I think it’s important that you two are friends. You get along, and I want to get to know you too.”

It feels weird to have Oliver’s boyfriend’s blessing for them to be friends. Oliver looks just as skeptical as Connor feels. “I mean, I don’t know how well we’ll get along,” Connor says. “I can be kind of a dick sometimes.” He’s trying to lighten the mood, but it doesn’t work. Oliver looks just as uncomfortable as he was a moment ago.

“You’re not wrong,” Oliver mutters under his breath.

“Okay…” Matthew looks between the two of them. “I just wanted to put it out there. If you want your alone time as well, I’m okay with that. I know this situation is kind of a mess, but I don’t want to be the reason you two can’t be friends.”

“I think the reason he and I can’t be friends is because he abandoned me after we first met.” Oliver’s words sting, and even Matthew is taken aback by them. “I’m going to go wait outside and let you make plans.”

Matthew watches Oliver as he walks away and sighs. Connor can’t help but wish that he had just left and never had approached Oliver at all. Or that he had just sat back down at his table and studied. Or that the barista had called his name out just a minute earlier.

“Look, I don’t trust you. And I don’t like that Oliver’s been sneaking around trying to make plans with you and feeling guilty about it because he thinks he shouldn’t want to hang out with you at all,” Matthew says as soon as Oliver leaves. “But regardless of what he’s saying right now, he does like you as a person. He’s stubborn and won’t admit it. I want him to be happy, though, and as long as you make sure not to hurt him again, I just want both of you two know that I’m here to support you as friends.” He looks over, and Connor follows his gaze. Oliver is pacing outside the café. “I should go. But I just wanted to let you know.” He leaves, and Connor waits another minute – until they’re out of his sight – before following them out.

Despite Matthew’s kindness, the words looms loom over him – as long as you make sure not to hurt him again. He doesn’t know if he can promise that. His track record with not hurting people isn’t so great. Connor knows that if Matthew feels so unthreatened by his presence that he and Oliver must be doing well. It should make him happy for Oliver, but instead it just makes his stomach churn.

\- - -

Connor’s phone dings, and he looks down to see a new Facebook message from Oliver.

 **Oliver** (2:14)  
We’re not having a group dinner or lunch or brunch or anything 

Connor laughs and goes to respond. He almost types out “boy toy” instead of boyfriend.

 _Connor_ (2:17)  
Your boyfriend seemed pretty excited at the prospect. 

 **Oliver** (2:19)  
Matthew. His name is Matthew. 

 _Connor_ (2:21)  
Well, Matthew seemed pretty excited about it. Are you really going to tell him no? 

Connor slides his phone in his pocket as he sees Michaela round the corner. “How do you think you did?” Michaela asks.

“By the time the last hour rolled around, my head felt like mush,” Connor says. “But good. You?”

“Good. I think I passed. Aiden insisted on taking me to celebrate yesterday.”

“You must have been celebrating late. I didn’t hear you come in,” Connor says. He feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, and he pulls it out and laughs.

“You’re talking to Oliver, aren’t you?” Michaela asks.

“Why would you say that?” Connor asks. He looks up from his phone at her. She beams at him. “Stop giving me that look.”

“You always have that same, excited look when you talk to him. When do I get to meet him?”

“You’re not going to meet him. We’re not even really friends yet,” Connor says.

“Yet being the key word.” They walk down the street, and Connor rolls his eyes as he types out a message.

 **Oliver** (2:26)  
Surprisingly, I value my own sanity more than minor disappointment from him. The worst he’ll do is pout at me. 

“What are you talking about?” Michaela asks.

“I’m talking about none of your business.” Connor tilts the phone screen more towards him so that Michaela can’t see.

“You better not be making Oliver cheat.” She glares at him. “I’m all for you two, but if you are sexting him or –”

“Jesus, Michaela!” Connor says, reaching out to cover her mouth. She swats his hand away and gives him an expectant look. “No, his boyfriend wanted us to meet up. I told you that – didn’t I?”

“Yeah, all three of you. ‘Cause that’d go over well.” 

“Well, Oliver doesn’t want it either, so that’s good. Like really doesn’t want it.”

“I’d imagine not. So, tell me, how goes that color thing?”

Connor flushes. “It’s… not entirely gone.” He feels slightly guilty. Even with Matthew in the picture, the faint glow remains. Everything isn’t quite black and white anymore. It’s not really color. It’s more of a tint. Barely there. But he can still tell it’s there.

“See, don’t lose hope. He probably has the same thing going on.” They turn the corner, and Michaela looks down at her phone. “The café is somewhere near here.”

“Oh good.” They take a moment to locate it, but once they do, they find Laurel already waiting at the table.

“So, how did the test go?” Michaela asks as they sit down.

“Fine. I actually think I did well.” She looks down at her phone. “Wes says he’s going to be fifteen minutes late. He got caught up with Lila and Rebecca.” She lets out a hum as she sees something else before setting her phone down. “Asher should be here soon.”

“It’s okay by me if he’s late,” Michaela says. “I think I passed it – thanks for asking.”

“I didn’t need to ask to know that.” Laurel rolls her eyes.

“That I think I passed or that I did pass?” Michaela asks.

Connor is thankful that Laurel is spared from answering when he hears Asher’s voice. “Yo, homedogs, what’s up?”

“No one has called anyone a homedog since elementary school,” Connor says, looking up at Asher as he stretches out a hand for a high five.

“Any takers?” Asher asks. When no one leans forward to high five him, Asher reaches out and high fives himself. “Assholes.”

“So, _homedog_ , how do you think you did?” Michaela asks.

“I don’t know. I think I did okay. I had some good notes.” He bobs his head. “What about you?”

“Passed it,” Michaela says at the same time as Laurel says, “I’m pretty confident I passed.”

Connor laughs. “Well,” is all he says.

“I like the confidence,” he says, gesturing to Michaela and Laurel. “How are you feeling now that we’re officially done, though?”

“Thankful,” Laurel says. “I finally get time to sleep. And watch Netflix. I’ve been wanting to watch this show for a few months, and finally…”

“I’m applying for jobs,” Michaela says. “I have an interview lined up.”

Connor has heard all of it before, and he tunes out and rests his chin on his hands until Michaela bumps his elbows, knocking his arms out from underneath him. He falls forward but catches himself. “What the fuck?” he asks.

“Laurel asked how things with Oliver were.”

“Oh, good. I can’t even get away from it with you guys.” Connor leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest.

“So no luck yet,” Laurel says.

“You don’t know that,” Connor says.

“Oh please. You’d be bragging like hell if you’d actually hooked up with him,” Laurel says.

“I am not that shallow,” Connor says.

“So you’re with the dude?” Asher asks.

Michaela smirks, and even though she hides it behind her hands, Connor glares. “No, we haven’t gotten back together. He’s still with Matthew.”

Laurel grins. “What was that about not being shallow?”

“Ha, ha.” He catches site of Wes. “Oh, look, Wes is here.”

Wes walks over and sits down. “How have you been?” he asks.

\- - -

Connor feels the vibration in his pocket in the middle of dinner and pulls out his phone.

 **Oliver** (6:23)  
How does Thursday sound? :) 

Connor furrows his brow.

 _Connor_ (6:24)  
How does Thursday sound for what? 

Oliver sees the message immediately but doesn’t respond for another ten minutes. Connor just picks up the controller when his phone goes off. He presses pause.

 **Oliver** (6:36)  
Dinner with Matthew… 

Connor clenches his jaw.

 _Connor_ (6:40)  
What the fuck? What happened to I don’t want to do this and it’s a bad idea and all of that? 

 **Oliver** (6:40)  
His pout was harder to resist than I thought! 

Connor feels a small twang of jealousy and sets his phone down, picking up the controller again. He’s happy he’s already playing Super Smash Brothers because he feels the need to punch something. Even if the N64 version is relatively simple, it’ll do. He feels his phone go off three more times before he pauses the game yet again.

 **Oliver** (6:50)  
Hello? 

 **Oliver** (7:01)  
I need to tell him yes or no. 

 **Oliver** (7:05)  
I’m sorry I sprung it on you like that. Maybe it’s good to meet up with him. We could work on being friends. 

He slides down the couch and stares at his phone for a moment before replying.

 _Connor_ (7:09)  
No, you’re good. Fine. Dinner. But I reserve the right to walk out if things get too awkward? 

Oliver responds immediately.

 **Oliver** (7:10)  
Of course. Yes. I mean, that might not go over well, but if you need to. 

Connor swallows the lump in his throat. He can’t decide if Oliver seems eager to meet up with him or whether he just wants to please Matthew.

 _Connor_ (7:13)  
Deal. 

He tosses his phone to the side before can see if Oliver responds.


	7. Polychrome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boom! Enjoy the chapter, lovelies. Happy (almost) New Year!

Connor makes it through dinner with minimal awkwardness. The conversation is mostly superficial, but it’s better that way – he decides.

“So, how do you feel about grabbing a drink?” Oliver asks once they’ve paid.

“I think I’m going to go to sleep since I have an early morning, but you two go ahead,” Matthew says, smiling at them.

Connor isn’t sure if it’s a trap, but when they both turn to look at him, he just nods.

“I’m sure I’ll see you later,” Matthew says as he shakes Connor’s hand. 

“I look forward to it.” He winces at the awkwardness of his response, but Matthew just gives him a kind smile.

Connor and Oliver wait in silence until Matthew fades into the crowd walking down the street.

“That was weird, right?” Connor asks. “That he just left the two of us.”

“No. He does have to get up at six. That must mean he doesn’t mind you,” Oliver says with a smile.

“You mean that he likes me?”

“Let’s not push your luck.”

Connor groans as they start to walk down the street. “I thought it would be cooler by now. And less humid. Humidity always fucks with my hair.” When Connor reaches up to try to fix it, he catches Oliver staring at him with a fond smile. “What?”

“Nothing. Just you being vain.” Oliver tries to brush it off like a joke, but Connor can see that he looks like he’s been caught doing something he’s not supposed to do. It takes a moment to sink in that Oliver was checking him out.

“Oh.”

“What?” Oliver asks.

“Nothing. Never mind.” Connor can feel butterflies in his stomach, and he hates it. So much for never being a hopeless romantic. He’s always made fun of his friends for it, but if it feels like this, maybe it makes a little more sense. Not that it matters anyway with Matthew in the picture. “Matthew seems nice.”

“Yeah, he’s really sweet. Perfect in every way, basically. Well, almost – I only wish he could cook better.” He pauses before adding, “That stays between us.”

“Promise. And wow, that’s quite a large compliment - perfect in almost every way.” Connor clears his throat, and they both fall silent. When Connor’s phone buzzes, he mumbles an apology and pulls it out.

 **Michaela**  (9:52)  
So how badly did you screw up?

Connor scoffs, and Oliver’s brow furrows. “Okay, what now?”

“Nothing. My roommate being annoying.” He quickly responds.

 _Connor_  (9:54)  
Still with Oliver. And I did not.

Michaela texts back less than half a minute later.

 **Michaela** (9:54)  
Just Oliver?

Connor puts his phone away.

“Your roommate… Michaela?” Oliver asks.

“You remembered her name?” Connor asks. He puts his hands in his pockets and looks over at Oliver. “That’s a little weird.” The phone buzzes in his pocket another three times, but he ignores it.

“She’s the one who wrote that really nice message for you. Of course I remember. If it weren’t for her –” Oliver cuts off abruptly. “What did she want?”

Connor wants to hear the rest of that sentence, but he knows better than to press. “She wanted to know what was going on and how we… how it had all –” Connor winces. “You know what I mean.”

Oliver falls silent and looks away from Connor. Connor can feel the tension build, and he makes a note to call Michaela out as soon as he gets home. “I can feel it, and I know you can too,” Oliver says. “That stupid tug. The color. It’s there. I see it.” The confirmation should be a relief, but Connor can sense that Oliver’s tone is not positive. “But it’s not going to happen. I want friends.” He turns to look at Connor and stops in his tracks. “You’re nicer than I thought, but I don’t trust you yet – soulmate or not.”

Connor’s stomach drops, and he swallows the lump in his throat as he does his best to smile. “Yeah, I mean, it’s not like I was expecting that to change anyway.” He does his best to scoff. “Please. I saw the way you and Matthew practically cooed over each other all dinner long.” He had noticed it was more Matthew to Oliver than the other way around, but he knows better than to say that. Besides, he knows he could be reading into it too much.

“Good.” Oliver pauses. After a moment, he breaks the silence. “So, when do I get to meet Michaela?”

“You don’t,” he says, and Oliver looks taken aback.

“Um, okay. Why?”

“Because you two will be the biggest pain in the ass if you meet. I don’t need to hear you riffing off each other.” When Oliver laughs, Connor relaxes a bit. “Okay, so which bar?”

“Whichever one is closest,” Oliver says.

It takes Connor to realize that one of the closest ones is where they met. Oliver must realize it at the same time because he suddenly looks unsure. “Do you want to?” he asks.

Oliver immediately knows what he’s talking about. “Sure. Why not. Hey, I thought you said that restaurant we went to was close to your apartment. Out of curiosity, how close do you live to the bar, then?” Oliver asks.

Connor looks away before he answers. “Walking distance.” He doesn’t want to see what Oliver looks like, so he stares straight ahead instead. The walk to the bar is mostly filled with silence, and Connor bites the inside of his cheek.

\- - -

“Connor’s been holding out,” Michaela says. “He didn’t want us to meet. I can’t believe it’s taken almost four months since you two have started hanging out.”

“Did he make excuses to you too?” Oliver asks. He laughs and hugs her before presenting the box. “Connor said you liked Godiva, so…”

Michaela looks over at Connor. “Well, Connor should have told me that you were planning on getting a gift, but it seemed to slip his mind.” She gives Connor a pointed look, and Connor sighs.

“You’ve known each other for a grand total of a minute and I can already tell this was the worst idea ever,” he says. Michaela and Oliver just grin at each other. “Fantastic.”

“So do you have embarrassing stories about him?” Oliver asks.

“Oh you don’t even know how many,” Michaela starts, but Connor clears his throat.

“Who wants wine?” They both raise their hands. “Are we in high school? You can talk.”

“Okay, so one time he was at a bar,” Michaela continues.

“Red or white?” Connor asks.

“Red,” Oliver says.

“We don’t even have white wine,” Michaela says.

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing both of you wanted red, then.” He grits his teeth. As much as he wants to tell Michaela to stop, he knows it’ll do no good. He can see the excited look on Oliver’s face. He moves over to the kitchen and leans against the counter for a moment, squeezing the bridge of his nose. Even when he tries, he can’t tune out the conversation.

“He was a mess. I mean, sloppy drunk, and we had to work all night the next day on a case for Annalise. He fell asleep five or six times, and Bonnie or Frank caught him every time. He got completely chewed out.”

Connor sighs and removes the cork from the Merlot. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. It feels dumb to have to give himself a pep talk. It shouldn’t be harder than having to meet Matthew, but somehow it is. If Oliver is becoming friends with his friends, there is no going back. Connor knows if he screws up, there isn’t going to be a third chance, and Michaela will never let him forget it.

“Are we going to get the Merlot, or are you going to sulk in the kitchen forever?” Michaela shouts out.

“Coming.” He grabs the glasses and steps out.

The color has become more vibrant every day. It always dulls a little when he sees Matthew and Oliver kiss, but it’s there. He wonders if it’s as bright for Oliver as it is for him.

“So am I going to get a chance to speak at all tonight?” he asks as he sets the food down.

“Probably not. Maybe if your food is as good as you like to brag it is,” Oliver says. “Is he actually a good cook?” he asks Michaela.

She looks up at Connor with a smile. “He’s pretty decent.”

Connor lets out a sigh of frustration. “Can I win with you? I’m going to grab the couscous salad.” He doesn’t cook often. He learned his lesson in undergrad. When he cooked then, the word spread around. It stopped becoming cathartic when people he didn’t know tried to not-so-subtly hint that they wanted to try his food.

“I have plenty of embarrassing stories about Michaela too,” he says after sitting down. Oliver reaches out to grab some of the salad. “Did you know she’s never seen  _Star Wars_?” Connor knows it’s one of Oliver’s favorite movies.

It has the effect he hoped it would, and Oliver gapes at her. “What?”

“One day I’ll watch it with Aiden. It just doesn’t seem like my cup of tea.”

“ _Star Wars_  is everyone’s cup of tea! And the new movie is amazing. You’re going to love Rey.”

“It’s true,” Connor says. At least this is a conversation he can join in on.

Oliver doesn’t have as strong of a reaction to his salad as he hoped he would, but at least he knows his main course will be good.

When he makes his way to the kitchen a second time, he puts on an apron concentrates on cooking. It doesn’t take very long. He made sure not to make anything that would leave him in the kitchen for over twenty minutes. As soon as he puts the pasta in the water, he continues with the other half of his meal.

“Oh my god. I don’t know what you’re making, but it smells so good,” Oliver calls out after a few minutes. Connor smiles. “Is it almost done?”

“So demanding,” Connor says. He steps out for just a second. “And yes. It’s almost done.” He leans against the door frame.

“You’re wearing an apron.” Oliver starts to laugh.

“Okay, but I’m actually wearing nice clothing! I don’t want to get oil on this shirt.” He waves the spatula around.

“No, it’s just really tacky.” Connor can’t help but think that Oliver’s smile looks kind and warm.

“C’mon, ‘Kiss the Chef,’” Michaela says, “go finish the food. We’re hungry.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Connor steps back into the kitchen.

“Just try to hurry up,” Michaela adds. She seems to be enjoying herself a little too much.

When the food is on the table, he sits down, he adds, “Bread is in the oven. It might take a little bit, but I think this is enough to start.” He knows he’s chosen dishes fancier than he should have, but he feels the need to show off. “That’s scallops with an orange sauce,” he says pointing at one dish. “And that’s chicken, spinach, and ricotta ravioli.”

“Holy shit.” Oliver looks at the food for a few seconds before looking up at Connor. “You made this?”

“No, I went to a restaurant without you knowing,” Connor says, rolling his eyes. “Yes, I made this.”

“So maybe I lied before and he’s a little more than decent,” Michaela says. While Oliver is taking some food onto his plate, she turns to Connor and mouths, “You’re trying too hard.” Connor sticks out his tongue.

Oliver moans with his first bite, and Connor watches as he licks the orange glaze off of his lips. “Good?” he asks. His heart races in his chest.

“Good doesn’t even start to cover it,” Oliver says. “This is amazing. It’s… God, how did you even make this?”

“Magic.” Connor winks and digs in, feeling proud when Oliver blushes.

His olive and rosemary bread is a hit, as is his chocolate espresso torte. Michaela may be right that he’s trying too hard, but it works. Oliver seems thoroughly impressed. When the dinner is over, they talk for another forty minutes before Oliver stands up to leave. “It’s eleven-thirty, and Matthew is probably wondering where the hell I am.” He leans in to give Connor a hug. Connor isn’t sure if it’s his imagination or not, but Oliver seems to hold it longer than he has to. He hugs Michaela next. “I’m so glad we met. I can’t wait to hear more stories about Connor.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I have so many.”

Oliver laughs and looks pleased. “I’m so excited. Have a great night, you two.”

As soon as the door shuts behind Oliver, Michaela turns to face Connor. “He’s head-over-heels for you, Con.”

Connor flushes. He wants to believe it, but it doesn’t seem smart to hope. And even if Oliver likes him, Connor isn’t sure if that gives him a chance. “He’s nice like that to everyone!”

“The way he looks at you isn’t just friendly,” she says. “It’s smitten. Oh, I feel bad for Matthew.” Michaela smiles nonetheless. “Don’t give up hope just yet. But maybe don’t go so overboard next time.”

\- - -

“So, how’s Emma,” Connor asks. “Is she still bothering Julian?”

“No, they’ve actually become best friends,” Matthew says. “They often try to outdo each other on the monkey bars.”

“Well, that’s cute. And good.” Connor takes a sip of his coffee. He catches Oliver with his eyes closed. “You okay, Ollie?” he asks.

“Huh?” Oliver’s eyes open. “I had to finish a project for work, and I was up late. Sorry if I’m not much fun.”

“Didn’t you get decaf?” Connor asks.

“He’s trying to limit how much caffeine he drinks,” Matthew says. “He drank a lot of coffee and tea over the past few months.”

“We’ll see how long it actually lasts,” Oliver says. He groans and looks over at Matthew’s cup. “Just a little? I have to go back to work after this.”

Matthew sighs and slides the cup over. Oliver drinks more than just a little. “Okay, slow down there, skipper,” Matthew says, taking the drink away from him. “You made me promise to help you quit.” When Oliver pouts, Matthew presses a kiss to Oliver’s forehead.

Even though he’s gotten used to moments like that, they still make Connor’s stomach drop. He looks out of the window and taps his thumb against his coffee mug. “Oliver told me that you two got tickets to see  _Hamilton_  when you go up to New York,” Connor says after a beat.

“Yeah, it really was pure luck. One of my friends is moving, and she’s already seen it twice, and it’d be too much of a hassle for her to fly back to New York to see it again. Even if she kind of wants to,” Matthew says with a laugh. Connor turns to look at them again, and he can see Oliver looking at him, even if he can’t read his expression. As soon as Connor tries to hold eye contact, Oliver looks away.

“That’s exciting. I still want to see it.”

“All of America does,” Oliver says with a laugh. He sounds a little uneasy, and Connor hopes he hides his confusion well enough. “I’m just excited Lin’s still part of the cast.”

“I hope he is when I get to see it too,” Connor says.

“I’ll make sure to tell you all about it and make you jealous,” Oliver says. His smile seems a little forced. Connor sighs.

How’s work on your end,” Matthew asks. “Everything going well?”

Connor focuses on the question rather than on Oliver. “Yeah, it’s mostly busy, and our client is being a pain in the ass, but that’s fine. Part of the job, I guess.” He rolls his eyes. “She owns some coffee chain that’s around New York, and she was deeply offended when I didn’t know who she was.”

“Yikes,” Matthew says. “That sounds rough.”

“She told me that I could only dream to be as famous as she was.” Connor laughs. “I told her clearly she wasn’t that famous if I’d never even heard of her. I think I pissed her off a little bit. My boss wasn’t too pleased.”

Matthew laughs as well and looks down at his watch. “Okay, I need to run, but are we still on for dinner?”

“Absolutely. I just need to figure out what I’m making, but I promise it’ll be good.”

“Always is,” Oliver says. Both Connor and Matthew look at him in surprise. Connor isn’t sure if Oliver’s generally quiet nature today has to do just with lack of sleep. Oliver sighs. “What? It’s true.”

“Yeah, it is,“ Matthew says, though his brow furrows. Nonetheless, he quickly recovers. “Okay, see you later.” He hugs Connor, and Oliver does too.

“I hope you make that ravioli again,” Oliver says. “I’ve been waiting to try it again. And Matt’s heard so much about it.”

“Well, then I have one dish for tonight picked out,” Connor says. “See you later.”

\- - -

Oliver doesn’t text him for a week. He sees Connor’s messages, but he doesn’t respond. Connor isn’t entirely sure what he’s done wrong, and even when he asks, Oliver says nothing.

“We were doing so well. Everything was fine. I don’t understand,” he says to Laurel and Michaela. “Fuck this bullshit. I’m just so tired.”

Laurel and Michaela share a look before Laurel speaks. “For once, I don’t think you did anything wrong.”

“Thanks for the overwhelming support,” Connor says. “For once…”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Michaela says. “He probably has some good excuse. You two have been close, and he really values your friendship. That much is obvious. God knows why he does…” Connor sinks down into the couch. “Okay, so maybe not the best time for a joke, but c’mon, he cares.”

“Then why isn’t he texting back at all? He’s read all of my texts. Every single one of them.” Connor runs a hand through his hair. “I feel like this whole thing has just been emotional whiplash, but whatever. We can go out tonight.”

Michaela and Laurel share another look. “Are you sure?” Laurel asks.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Connor asks. “And stop doing that thing where you look at each other before answering. I’m right here.”

Michaela sighs. “Fine, we can do it after dinner. I’ll ask Aiden if he’s able to do it as well.” She pulls out her phone to start texting.

“So you just want to hook up with someone?” Laurel asks.

“I don’t need your judgment.”

“Oh, trust me – I’m not judging you. That sounds about right. I could use a night out myself.” She laughs and offers Connor a smile that he thinks is supposed to be comforting. Connor gives her a tense smile back.

“Okay, so where do you want to go?” Michaela asks. “Aiden says he’s going to join us. He just wants to make sure you’re not taking us to some scandalous bar.”

Before Connor can answer, his phone vibrates. “Oh my God, Aiden needs to calm down,” he says as he pulls out his phone. He stops as soon as he sees who the text is from.

 **Oliver**  (5:54)  
Hey, can I come over?

“Fuck, it’s Oliver. He wants to come over.”

“Well, that was unexpected,” Michaela says. “Weird timing. What does he want?”

“To come over,” Connor says. “I just told you.”

“No explanation?“ When Connor says nothing, Laurel sighs. "And what are you going to say?”

Connor quickly types out his message.

 _Connor_  (5:57)  
Sure.

“Okay, you two need to leave,” he says. “Like now.”

“What?” Michaela looks confused – as does Laurel. Michaela presses her lips together into a thin line. “I know you like him, but maybe this isn’t the best idea right now. I mean, you’re upset. Five minutes ago you looked like you were angry at him. I just feel like you’re going to say something stupid, and –”

“I know what I’m doing,” Connor says.

“I doubt that, but…” Michaela sighs. “I’m not going to change your mind, am I?”

“Nope.”

Laurel nods. “Okay, we’ll leave. Let Aiden know it’ll just be the two of us,” she says to Michaela. She crosses her arms across her chest, and Connor can tell that she’s biting back what she wants to say. As much as it annoys him, he’s not sure if he has time or energy to ask what is wrong. Besides, he’s sure the answer will be something along the lines of what Michaela said.

“Then leave,” Connor says. “I want to deal with this on my own. Tell Aiden I’m sorry for skipping dinner.”

“This is a bad idea,” Michaela says under her breath as she pulls out her phone to text Aiden. "What about going to a bar?”

“We’ll see what happens, and I’ll let you know,” Connor says.

Michaela and Laurel gather their stuff and move toward the door. “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Laurel says, “but if you need anything, I’m here for you.”

“Yeah, well, thanks for the offer, but leave before he gets here. I don’t know how close he is.” He shoos them out, and as soon as the door closes behind them, he starts pacing. After ten minutes pass, he takes out his phone and starts texting Oliver. He writes and rewrites the message asking Oliver where he is four times before he deletes it for good and puts his phone back in his pocket.

It takes another fifteen minutes before he hears a knock at the door, and it jars him. Connor jumps and pauses for a moment. If he rushes, he knows he’ll seem over-eager. After a pause that he deems sufficiently long, he walks over. He’s ready to yell at Oliver when he opens the door, but the moment he sees Oliver, he can see that he isn’t okay. “What’s wrong?” Connor asks. He grabs Oliver’s hand. “You don’t look so great.” He frowns when Oliver takes a shaky breath. He steps in without saying a word and toes off his shoes before moving to the living room.

“Matt broke up with me,” Oliver says. “A week ago.”

“What?” Connor barely stops himself from gaping. “I don’t understand… I thought you two were doing well together.”

“I thought so too, but he – He said it’s time to let go.” Oliver looks straight at him and doesn’t look away. “He said it’s time to move on.”

“Did he say why?”

“He said he could see it. That you’re here, and he can see me. That we –” Oliver’s words are coming out jumbled, and it takes Connor a moment to process.

“He broke up because of us? But we’re just friends,” Connor insists, even if it makes his stomach drop. No matter how much time passes, just friends still hurts.

“Are we?” he asks.

Connor doesn’t know what to say. “I thought we were.”

“I’ve been seeing in color for so long. It’s there, and every time we touch – you lay a hand on my shoulder or we hug – it just gets stronger, and – God – you’re beautiful in color. Maybe Matthew’s right. Maybe we’ve been more than friends for a while now.” Connor just stares as his heart races. “Are you going to say anything?”

“You don’t talk to me for a week and then this?” Connor asks.

“I needed time to process.”

Connor sighs. “Of course I wanted us to be more than friends. I’ve wanted that from the moment we started talking again because this stupid  _soulmate_  thing or whatever-the-fuck won’t leave me alone, but you looked happy, and I didn’t want to mess with that. I just –”

Oliver cuts him off when he leans in and kisses him. Their noses bump together, and Oliver tilts his head as his hand falls to the back of Connor’s neck. It takes Connor a moment to kiss back – for the shock to wear off – but he leans in. Their teeth bump together. The kiss is less than perfect, but it’s a kiss, and Oliver is warm and pressed up against him. His hand falls to Oliver’s waist, and he holds him close. His head spins. Oliver nips at his lower lip, and Connor laughs into the kiss as Oliver’s hands move to cup his cheek.

When Oliver leans in too much, Connor loses his balance and stumbles. He pulls Oliver with him, and they almost fall. They pull back from the kiss, and Connor can’t stop giggling. Elated – it’s the first word that comes to mind. He knows he has a dopey smile on his face, but he doesn’t care. He leans in again and presses another kiss to Oliver’s lips, this time gentler. His hand moves up to Oliver’s cheek this time, and he deepens the kiss. It’s not sloppy or rushed like the first one. His face and neck feel warm, and he’s sure he’s blushing, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care at all.

Oliver’s hand moves back to the back of Connor’s neck and then along his jaw and down his collar. This is new and unfamiliar, but he doesn’t want to stop. He doesn’t want to let go or stop kissing him. It’s better than all the times he’s imagined it. He takes a few steps back, and they fumble, trying to move together without breaking the kiss. Connor reaches the wall and leans against it so that Oliver’s weight moves rests on top of. His heart beats against his chest and in his throat, and he can’t stop shaking.

When Connor pulls back and leans his forehead against Oliver’s, Oliver smiles. “You really want to do this?” he asks.

“Yes.” Oliver presses another peck to Connor’s lips before laying his head on Connor’s shoulder.

“That looks uncomfortable.”

Oliver laughs. “It is.” He moves up and takes a step back, but his hand moves down to hold Connor’s. He gives it a light squeeze, and Connor squeezes back. “I just need us to take this slow.”

“Okay. I’ll try.”

“Do or do not. There is no try,” Oliver says.

“Only you’d ruin this with a Yoda quote.” Connor shakes his head but smiles. “Fine, I do."

 


	8. Saturated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are two chapters left after this. That's it!

“I don’t understand why you won’t just move in with me,” Connor says, removing Oliver’s laptop from his hands, setting it on the table, and straddling him. “You have a room here with a boyfriend who knows what you need.” He wraps his arms around Oliver’s neck. “One hundred percent satisfaction guaranteed.”

“You sound like a commercial.” Oliver laughs and places his hands on Connor’s hips. “And you know I want to take it slow.”

“You moved out of Matt’s place four months ago. That’s pretty slow. Besides, we basically spend every night together.” He drops his hands down Oliver’s back and slips them under his shirt, tracing his way up Oliver’s spine.

“Yeah, but there’s a big difference between spending time together and sharing a room.” Connor huffs and leans in to kiss him, but Oliver dodges, kissing him instead on the tip of his nose. “It’s a big step, Con.”

Connor huffs. “Whatever, _fine_.” He leans in again. “And that was rude. I want a proper kiss.”

“So demanding.” Oliver rolls his eyes but leans back in, pressing their lips together.

Four months later, and Connor still has butterflies when the kiss. He closes his eyes as he nips at Oliver’s lower lip and deepens the kiss. Oliver’s breath hitches, and Connor runs his fingers down Oliver’s back. Oliver pulls back. “I need to work,” he whines. He sounds like he doesn’t want to, but he draws back nonetheless.

“And I need kisses.”

“I have so much shit I need to do because of that stupid conference on Wednesday.” He sighs and looks over at his laptop, and Connor knows his battle is lost. He gets off of Oliver’s lap.

“You’ve been working nonstop. You should take a break.” He pouts, and Oliver shakes his head. “We can order pizza.”

At that, Oliver perks up. “Okay, pizza does sound kinda great…”

“How about we order pizza, and then you take a thirty minute break when it gets here?” He knows he can work his way up from there.

Oliver knows it too, but it must seem too tempting because his shoulders slump forward as he resigns. “Okay fine, alright. You win. But can it be from that place that I like – with the thin crust?”

“I’m not going to put up a fight out of the goodness of my heart,” he says, placing his hand over his chest and giving Oliver a look of mock modesty. Oliver nudges him and laughs before picking his laptop back up.

It takes a while for the pizza to arrive. Connor sits on the other side of the couch. He finishes the little work he has left before scrolling through Facebook. He’s halfway through someone’s profile pictures when the pizza gets there.

“God, I’m hungry,” Oliver says as Connor opens up the box. He moans and reaches out, grabbing a slice and biting in. “This is amazing.” His words come out muffled through the pizza.

Connor bites in as well. Even if he prefers thicker crust, he has to admit that their pizza is good. They stuff themselves with pizza, and after ten minutes, Oliver leans against the couch with his eyes closed. “I don’t have time to go into a food coma. I have to go back to work.”

“It hasn’t even been thirty minutes,” Connor says.

“Yeah, just it’s taking longer than I thought it would, and I should just get back to it.” Oliver shifts so that he’s sitting up again and stands up to go wash the pizza grease off of his fingers. Connor wipes his hands with a napkin before grabbing his phone. He scrolls through his music.

When Oliver comes back, Connor doesn’t even let him sit down. Instead, he hits the play button and stands up, taking Oliver into his arms. “We’re going to dance.”

“Connor, this is absurd. You’re just trying to procrastinate.”

“Maybe but you also need to relax, and we’re going to dance.”

Oliver realizes that _You’re Just Too Good to Be True_ is playing and gives Connor an incredulous look. “Are you serious? This song? I thought you a self-proclaimed anti-sap.”

“I have my moments of weakness.” He reaches and squeezes Oliver’s hand. “Dance with me.” Oliver glances over to his laptop again, and Connor pouts. “Please? Dance with me, babe.”

“You’re the worst.” He wraps his arms around Connor’s waist and lets Connor lead. Connor grins and spins them around with a laugh. When the music starts to swell, he sings along, bopping his head along with the beat. Oliver lets out a sound somewhere between a groan and a laugh. Connor pulls Oliver by his hands and drags them across the room, dipping him dramatically. When he pulls Oliver up, he presses their lips together in a lingering kiss. Oliver’s lips feel warm and soft, and he lets out a happy sigh.

He slows them down to a sway and pulls back, still singing quietly with the music. When he raises an eyebrow, Oliver smiles and sings back with him. As the song finishes, Connor presses their lips together again. He deepens the kiss and closes his eyes. One hand reaches up to cup Oliver’s cheek, and they come to a standstill, kissing in the middle of the living room.

The sound of keys at the door jars them out of their moment. They jump back just as Michaela and Laurel walk into the room.  “Were we interrupting something?” Laurel asks, looking between the two of them.

“What are you doing here?” Connor asks, stepping away from Oliver and trying to change the subject.

“Shopping,” Laurel says.

“You two go shopping together now?” Connor asks.

“I needed help picking out a dress for a work event, and we ran into each other, so Laurel helped me out. She doesn’t have a completely terrible eye when it comes to fashion.”

“Oh, gee, thanks,” Laurel says. She sighs and moves over to the armchair, sitting down in it and looking at the almost-empty pizza box. “Hey, can I have the last two slices of pizza?” she asks.

Michaela hears and walks over, dumping two bags on the ground. “Oh no way, that’s Rosa’s. I want a slice.”

“Oh my god. It’s _my_ pizza. You don’t get to walk in and just eat all of it,” Connor snaps.

“All of it? Please, there’s two slices left, and that’s not even going to be satisfying tomorrow if you can each have just one slice, and it’ll be reheated or cold which is never as good,” Michaela says, not looking away from the pizza.

“I like cold pizza,” Connor says defensively, even if it isn’t entirely true.

“You can have it,” Oliver says. When Connor gives him an offended look, Oliver walks over and presses a light kiss to Connor’s lips. “Don’t be an asshole.”

“But it’s who I am,” Connor says, half-jokingly. Oliver just smiles, and Connor resigns as Michaela and Laurel each grab a slice.

\- - -

“Gemma and your mom invited me to come over to your house,” Oliver says as they lay in bed one night.

“Huh?” Connor’s brow furrows.

“Well, it was really Gemma. She said that if she asked you, you’d tell her not to invite me.”

“I knew it was the worst idea when you two became Facebook friends. And she didn’t have a right to invite you without asking me.” Connor rolls over away from Oliver. His stomach knots.

“Oh, c’mon…” Oliver rolls over as well and wraps his arms around Connor’s waist. “I think it’s sweet.”

“You’re not thinking of saying yes, are you?”

“I already said yes,” Oliver says.

“Fuck.” Connor closes his eyes. The lump in his throat grows, and he stares at the wall ahead of him.

“I don’t get what’s wrong.”

“Isn’t it too soon for this?”

“You want to move in together!” He presses a kiss to the back of Connor’s neck. “What’s really bothering you?”

“My family is a lot to deal with.”

“Well, your mother and sister both seem sweet.” Oliver nudges his nose against Connor, and all Connor can do is stare. The noise in his head won’t go away. It’s a dull buzz. He knows that this was bound to happen eventually. “I thought you were close to both of them.”

“I am.” As he sighs, he rolls over. “I am,” Connor repeats.

Oliver doesn’t speak for a moment. They hold each other’s gazes, and Connor tries to ignore the pounding in his chest. This is real. He can already hear his mother’s barrage of questions. “Can I ask you a personal question?” Oliver asks.

“Hm?”

“Whatever happened with your dad? You never talk about him.”

It’s the question he never wanted to hear. His stomach sinks even lower, and he leans his head against Oliver’s chest to keep from having to look at him any longer. “It doesn’t matter.”

Oliver holds him tighter and tucks his chin on top of Connor’s head. His thumb runs small circles on Connor’s arm, and Connor has almost fallen asleep when Oliver speaks again. “It’d mean a lot if I could meet your family.”

“When did they invite you?” Connor asks, his mouth dry.

“Weekend after next.”

“Fine.” Connor sighs. “We can probably go. Just let me think about it a little. Just let’s get some sleep right now,” he says.

\- - -

“Why did you invite him without asking me?” Connor asks. He paces the room as he presses the phone tightly to his ear. “You didn’t have a right to do that.”

“Were you ever going to introduce us to him? He’s your soulmate.”

“Technically I did introduce you, just not in person.”

“That’s not the same thing,” Gemma says. “Facebook doesn’t count. Oliver says you two have known each other for a while.”

“It’s complicated. I fucked up.”

“When did you stop telling me things? I remember when everything was going on with Aiden, and –”

“I didn’t need you judging me,” Connor says sharply. He sighs and squeezes his brow.

“You know I’d never judge you.” She pauses before adding, “He doesn’t know about Dad, does he?”

Sometimes Connor forgets how Gemma always seems to know what he’s thinking. “I wanted to tell him before I brought him home.”

“He deserves to know,” Gemma says. “That was a big thing, and maybe it’ll help him understand…” She pauses, and Connor can hear her kids laughing in the background.

“Are you bringing the kids over for the weekend?”

“Should I?”

“Let’s start without them,” Connor says. “Next time you can bring them.” He scuffs his foot at the ground and smiles wistfully. “You’re going to like him a lot.”

“My little brother’s finally growing up and settling down.”

“I knew you would get super obnoxious about it. Just don’t get this obnoxious in person.”

“Oh, you know Mom will if I don’t.” Gemma laughs. “I’m pretty sure you’re going to have to prepare yourself for the worst. We weren’t sure if you’d ever get over yourself enough to give a guy a chance.”

“How bad has she been?” Connor asks. “I haven’t talked with her yet.”

“Oh, I know you haven’t. She’s told me you’ve ignored all of her calls.”

Connor groans. “Yeah, I’m going to call her after we hang up.”

“Probably a good idea.”

They both fall silent, and Connor smiles. “I miss you,” he says after a moment.

“I miss you too. I’m sorry I invited Oliver over without asking you.”

“Are you really sorry?”

She laughs. “Not really.”

“Asshole.”

“Love you.” Connor stops pacing and sits down on his bed.

“Love you too.”

\- - -

Connor’s mother welcomes Oliver with a hug that Connor is pretty sure lasts too long and is too tight. “I’m so happy we’re finally meeting. I’ve heard so much about you.” Oliver makes eye contact with Connor and gives him a warm smile, trying to relax him. It doesn’t help much. Connor takes in a deep breath.

“He’s told me a lot about you too.”

When Connor’s mother lets go, she moves over to Connor. “I can’t believe you tried to keep me from meeting your boyfriend for this long.” His mother hugs him nonetheless. “And your soulmate too!” She tuts.

“I didn’t try to keep you from meeting him! Why is everyone making me out to be the bad guy? Where’s Gemma?”

“She’s going to be here any moment.” His mother turns back to Oliver, “You must be starving.” They make their way over to the dining room, and his mother motions them toward their seats. “The bread should be done any moment, and when it is –” The oven goes off, and she grins. “Speak of the devil.” She shuffles off toward the kitchen as Connor and Oliver sit down next to each other.

“Okay, you have the sweetest mother,” Oliver says.

“You may think she’s sweet now, but just wait until the end of the night. I promise you’ll want to get away from all of that cooing.”

His mother pops back with a cutting board, holding bread and butter on it. “What was that, dear?”

“Nothing.” He grins, and his mother fondly rolls her eyes. She cuts them both slices of bread, and after Oliver’s spread some butter across it, he takes a bite.

“So he gets the cooking from you,” Oliver says, letting out a happy sigh. “This is really good.”

“Oh, well, thank you.” She blushes. “Connor has a cookbook with my recipes. He helped me with dinner sometimes when he was young. I’m sure we have some photos around here somewhere of –”

“No, no. We’re not showing any embarrassing photos of me. I _refuse_.” Connor huffs, and his mother and Oliver both laugh.

“We’ll leave this for next time, then,” his mother says, winking at Oliver. The doorbell rings, and Connor jumps up.

“I’ll get it,” he says. As soon as he opens the door, Gemma throws her arms around him. Connor hugs her back, and when they let go, he feels a little more relaxed. “Mom’s already threatening to show photos of me as a kid to Oliver.”

“Well, she doesn’t skip a beat, does she?” Gemma laughs. “Speaking of things we did as kids, I brought those cookies we used to make.”

“With the cream cheese and jam filling?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Fuck yes,” Connor says.

Gemma hangs up her coat, and the two of them walk over to the table. Gemma goes into the kitchen to set down the cookies and wash her hands, and when she comes out, she gives their mother and Oliver both hugs. “I hope you had a good trip here,” Gemma says to Oliver and Connor.

“Not gonna lie. I was pretty excited to take a road trip,” Connor says. “Sometime I’m going to drag you out to do this when we can actually take our time driving and exploring,” Connor says to Oliver. “Like a week long road trip or something.” He ignores the grins both Gemma and his mother give him.

“How are the kids?” Oliver asks Gemma. “Last I heard, Ari was starting to learn the saxophone for school.”

“He’s very… proud of it. And very loud,” Gemma says with a laugh. “But I think he’s gotten over the part where he loves to make it squeak on purpose. _Finally_.” Connor takes another piece of bread as he listens. “And Jack’s back on the soccer team. His ankle has healed enough that he can join in again.”

“Oh, that’s awesome,” Oliver says.

Dinner goes by smoothly. His mother shows off her cooking, and Connor begins to understand that maybe Oliver wasn’t lying when he said that he saw where he got it from. It has been too long since he has been at home. He always was tired of the nagging that came with visiting – of the “Connor when are you going to settle down” and the “why haven’t we met any of your boyfriends yet” and the “you have to keep an open mind.” But now there was no need for that.

When they finished, Oliver stood up to help Connor’s mother with the plates. “Connor, don’t let your boyfriend do all the work,” she says as Connor leans back in his chair. Connor glares at Oliver as Oliver chuckles. “He’s so sweet – immediately helping when he doesn’t have to. Really, you can sit down,” she says to Oliver. Oliver shakes his head and grabs Gemma’s plate as well. “And there you are just lounging about. You can sit, Gemma.”

“Oh, so she gets a free pass!”

“She visits me more often than you do,” his mother says. Gemma sticks out her tongue at Connor.

Connor grabs the cookies and a cake his mother baked from the fridge and sets them on the table. Oliver follows and kisses him before reaching down and squeezing his hand.

“Ew, gross,” Gemma teases. When Connor glares at her, she laughs. “I’m kidding. You two are _adorable_.”

“Not much better,” Connor grumbles. Oliver squeezes his hand again, and Connor eyes the cookies. “Do you think Mom would mind if I just grabbed one?” he asked, reaching forward with his free hand and hovering it over the cookies.

His mother appears with plates and forks for the four of them. “Mom would mind very much. That’s rude.” She hands out the plates. “Oliver should go first since he’s our guest.” She motions to the food, and Oliver smiles before reaching out to grab some. “Would anyone want tea or coffee?”

“I would love some tea,” Connor says immediately.

“Fantastic, then you can go and grab it for everyone. Anyone else?”

“I’ll have the white peach tea,” Gemma says.

“Same,” their mother says.

“I’ll have coffee, actually,” Oliver says.

Connor goes into the kitchen to set the kettle and turn on the Keurig. He can still hear them talking in the dining room. When his mother asks how they met, Connor feels his face light up.

“It was at a bar. We didn’t really get a chance to know each other until later. Connor…” Oliver pauses, and Connor bites his lips. “It’s a little complicated, but he reached out to me and invited me for coffee. I had a boyfriend at the time, but… I guess you could argue fate. I don’t know. He’s a really great guy, and I think it had a lot more to do with that.”

Connor tunes out his mother’s and sister’s responses as he leans against the counter and smiles. A really great guy – he’s not sure if he deserves the title, but it makes his heart skip a beat. Oliver could have told them what really happened. Of course, Connor knows that he’s too nice to, but nonetheless Oliver made it sound so simple.

He stirs in a spoonful of sugar into Oliver’s coffee and adds cream to both of theirs before grabbing two more mugs and pouring in the boiling water over the teabags. When he steps out into the kitchen, his eyes meet Oliver’s. They hold it for a moment, and Connor can feel the back of his neck heat up.

He clears his throat and sets all the mugs down. “So, I’m gonna take those cookies now.” He plops down into his chair and grabs five as everyone else laughs.                     

\- - -

“Don’t be scared,” Connor says, stretching out a hand. “It’s not even that slanted.”

“This seems like an awful idea,” Oliver says.                                                           

“I told you that I used to do it all the time. Come on…” He smiles and steps back. For a second he’s afraid that Oliver won’t follow. There have been so many times that he has had to coax someone out, and he knows that if he just waits, it’ll be okay.

Sure enough, after a moment, Oliver steps out as well. “If I get sent to the hospital because I fell off of your roof, you’re paying the bills,” Oliver grumbles. They carefully step over to where the window won’t get in the way and lay down on the roof.

“Not that steep, see?” Connor says. Oliver just reaches out and takes Connor’s hand in his.

“It’s not the most comfortable, though.”

“Yeah, well, whatever.” Oliver laughs. “I owe you the story about my dad,” Connor says. He stares up at the sky. His mouth feels oddly dry, and his body is achingly tense.

“You don’t owe me anything. If you don’t want to tell me –”

“I want to,” Connor says. He sighs, and Oliver squeezes his hand. It seems strange. If there’s one thing he hates talking about, it’s his father. Oliver won’t judge him, and he knows it, but there is something about saying the words that seems terrifying. Perhaps it’s that he then has to relive it all. Gemma says that’s what her therapist things.

“Are you sure?” Oliver asks.

Connor nods even though Oliver isn’t looking at him. There’s no good place to begin, so he starts where first comes to mind. “He’s not dead if that’s what you’ve been wondering.”

“Oh, okay.”

“My mother divorced him during my freshman year of college,” he says and stops again. Words aren’t coming easily. He shuts his eyes. “When I was ten, my father got into a car accident.” He waits to see if Oliver will speak, but it seems like Oliver is going to wait to let him tell his story and listen. “It was some stupid accident where someone lost control of their wheel, and that all honestly doesn’t matter. But they hit him, and he ended up in the hospital.” Connor opens his eyes again and looks up at the sky. “He played guitar. He was decently well-known. Walsh is my mother’s last name. His last name is Marcotte.”

“Gayle?” It surprises him that Oliver has heard of him.

“Yeah. You know him?”

“My mother used to listen to his music. I just know the name.”

“Well, the accident fucked up his hands, and he started drinking – really drinking.” He can remember nights before they shipped him off to boarding school. His father would start to yell, and his mother would tell him to go to his room. Connor can almost see himself curled up on his bed, waiting for it to end.

“He couldn’t play anymore. He couldn’t make new music, and he couldn’t play his old stuff. He didn’t want to let anyone else play the guitar while he sang either. He just broke.”

Oliver shifts, and his arms wrap around Connor. He pulls him close and wraps an arm around his waist. “Con…”

Connor feels his eyes burn, but he doesn’t turn. He can’t look at Oliver now. He wants to shake him off, but he doesn’t. “Things started to get worse. He would come home late and yell at her, and suddenly I was staying with my grandparents over the weekends. And then they sent me to a boarding school, and when I’d come home, sometimes it would still seem normal, and I hoped it was getting better.” He shakes his head. “He hit her a few times while I was in high school. He cheated on her too.”

Oliver moves closer yet and reaches up, cupping his cheek and tilting his face. Their noses press together, and Connor lets out a shaky breath. His chest feels tight, and he has to concentrate – breathe in and out – not to cry.

“And eventually she couldn’t take it anymore,” Connor says. “Eventually she divorced him.” It feel ridiculous that he’s almost crying, but it’s harder than it should be to share. Michaela knows the basics. Aiden knows more. But he still mostly knows through small details he’s picked up along the way – Connor’s sure. His head spins, and he swallows before continuing. “Can you promise not to think I’m an idiot or… hate me or something?”

“I couldn’t hate you, and you’re not an idiot,” Oliver says.

“They were soulmates.”

“Oh God.” The words come out so quietly that Connor isn’t entirely sure that Oliver meant to say them aloud at all.

“Maybe that’s why I hate soulmates. Gemma thinks so. But they were, and when they were soulmates, it’s not like the world knew he would get hit by a car. Gemma remembers more of them before the accident, and she says they were perfect. She says they were happy and loved each other. And then shit happened, and they weren’t anymore. How much are soulmates worth if something like that can make you cheat and hit your partner?” Connor laughs bitterly.

“That’s not fair,” Oliver says.

“Well, it happened.”

“Why would I think you’re an idiot or hate you because of that?”

“Because it sounds like some dumb excuse for what I did?” He looks away.

“There’s no excuse for what you did. That was shitty, and I don’t care if you had reasons to do that.” Oliver sighs. “But I’m sorry it happened.” He curls closer into him. “That’s awful.”

Connor finally rolls over and turns to face him. He leans in until their foreheads and noses are touching. “Guess I did a pretty shit job at avoiding soulmates forever, though.” He laughs and gives a weak smile.

“It’s all because of my overwhelming charm. You couldn’t resist it.” Oliver teases.

Connor tangles their legs together. “You’re right. It’s all your fault.” He shifts a bit. “You know, I don’t remember the roof being this uncomfortable when I was younger.”

“You’re so weird,” Oliver says. He presses their lips together, and Connor reaches up, cupping Oliver’s cheek.

“So did you like my mom and my sister?” Connor asks when they pull back.

“They’re pretty great.”

“Good.”

After a moment of silence Oliver asks, “Can we go in now before I have permanent back problems?”

“You’re so overdramatic.” Connor rolls his eyes but stands up and extends a hand to help Oliver up as well.


End file.
